


Champions of Nydealle: The Dark Wars

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, Eventual Relationships, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, MMORPGs, Multi, high school!au, pop culture references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-06 05:58:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1846984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin is a nerd, Michael is a jock, and Ray is Gavin's best friend. Gavin and Ray play an MMORPG online called Champions of Nydealle: The Dark Wars. One night, while Ray is gone, Gavin meets a player named Mogar. Romance and shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pizza Thursday

**Author's Note:**

> Characters, tags, ratings, and warnings will change as the story goes on! Champions of Nydealle: The Dark Wars will also be posted on my tumblr (http://gavinojonesy.tumblr.com/myfics). Will be updated every one to two weeks.

Gavin was _beyond_ stoked.

He was absolutely tippy-toppers and not even the 'B-' on his English midterm could bring him down.

Today, all Nydealle servers had the double experience feature running and most of the premium items were half off (not that neither him nor Ray were looking to buy any).

God, Gavin couldn't stop jittering his leg. The double experience had already started sometime that morning and it was going to end at midnight on the dot.

Ray, Gavin’s best friend, and himself had both been thinking up a plan since the event popped up on the official forum. Their plan involved grinding high level mobs and then speed-running a dungeon or two. Hopefully by the time they were at the dungeon, they had both leveled up considerably. While Gavin's level 56 elven archer was nothing to bat an eyelash at, his tactics sucked major dicks.

One, he rushed enemies first and utilized his range-orientated class never. No matter how many times Ray shouted something like 'dammit Gavin, fucking stay behind me' at him over Skype, the message never got through the processors in Gavin's brain.

Two, he always forgot to stock up on health and mana potions before raids. They would be ten minutes in, going strong, then Gavin's character would suddenly end up being knocked out and Ray would get an earful of vaguely British, half-bird, and half-velociraptor screeches in his headphones as Gavin realized he had forgotten to visit the merchant on their way to the raid. 

Ray was the real brawn in their duo. He could mow down mobs with his level 57 faunus rogue in ways that left Gavin stunned most of the time. However, Ray couldn't whip up an action montage quite like Gavin could, but he more often than not got to pick out the music for it.

"Stop bouncing your leg," hissed the girl sitting in the desk next to him, interrupting his train of thought. "The bell rings in literally ten seconds, I think you can wait a little longer."

Gavin wordlessly stilled his leg and true to her word, the bell rung only a few moments later. Gavin grabbed his things and bounced up onto his feet excitedly. It was lunchtime now (pizza Thursday to be exact) and everyone was buzzing with elation at the thought of snagging a few greasy slices.

Gavin followed the stream of students out of the classroom and into the hallway. Now, if he could navigate through the hallway without dropping anything, it'd be a miracle. Gavin had high hopes; he was on Cloud Nine and he didn't think anything could ruin it now.

It did, however, put a damper on his spirits when he tripped over his feet just as he got to his locker. His books slipped out of his arms and papers cascaded out from folders and plastic pockets in all directions. Gavin groaned, his head tilting back. He leaned down and began snatching papers off of the ground before they could be stepped on or stolen. He ignored the raucous laughter coming from the students around him as he shoved the papers back into one of his books, collected everything into his arms again, and stood back up.

"I'm seriously convinced that there has never been a day in your entire life where you haven't tripped over yourself," Ray's voice sounded from behind him, a hint of laughter in his words.

"Shut up, you mingepot, I'm not that clumsy," Gavin replied with a grin, balancing his books in one arm as he fumbled with the lock on his locker with the other.

"Sure, Gavin, whatever you say," he snickered. As he dodged Gavin's foot as he tried to kick him, Gavin messed up on his combination a second time.

"Bollocks!" he squawked in indignation.

"Dude, hurry up! These damn vultures are stealing my pizza!" Ray groused, folding his arms.

“Then go to lunch, pissbaby,” Gavin snorted.

“Fine, I’ll save you a seat then, British prick.” Ray laughed, giving him a quick shove just as Gavin swung open his locker before he raced off towards the cafeteria. Gavin turned to retaliate just in time to see Ray barely manage to dodge another kid before he disappeared into the crowd. He snickered and piled his books into his locker. Gavin spun the lock a few times before he turned and he too slipped into the stream of students heading for the cafeteria.

He arrived there quickly, practically elbowing a kid out of the way before Gavin was accidentally thrown out of the line. Pizza Thursday was serious business and no one tolerated any line-cutting, considering the pizza ran out at one point or another.

Gavin grabbed a tray and handed it to one of the lunch ladies. She chattered happily as she slapped two pieces of pizza and a little plastic cup of slimy fruit cocktail onto the tray. He didn't hear a word she said but when he grabbed his tray from her, he replied with a grin.

"Cheers!"

The lunch lady gave him a wide smile and waddled back to grab another student's tray. He took slow steps away from the lunch line and glanced around the cafeteria, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Gavin spotted Ray almost instantly. The Puerto Rican was standing up on his chair, waving his arms wildly.

Gavin began making his way through the crowd, dodging and ducking around the students. As he got closer, a thin pathway appeared as a group of students separated. Gavin grinned widely and hurried through it.

Or at least, tried to hurry through it. Another student, a boy a bit shorter than him with unruly brown curls, stood up and stepped into the pathway. He was wearing a letterman, indicating that he played on the varsity football team. A few names drifted through Gavin's head.

_Matthew? Mitch? Michael?_

Michael, the one with the infamous temper.

As he thought about it, Gavin had attempted to move out of the way, but his foot caught on another's ankle. He tumbled forwards with a shriek, his tray flying out of his hands directly towards Michael. Gavin whimpered as his knees slammed against the concrete flooring but the noise was quickly swallowed by furious shouting.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Gavin looked up to see Michael wiping cheese, pizza sauce, and fruit cocktail off of his letterman. They caught each others eyes for a quick moment, and Gavin swore he had never seen so much anger in one person.

"L-look, mate..." Gavin stammered.

"Look, mate!" Michael mocked harshly. "Look here, asshole, you better watch where you're fucking going. If you ruined my letterman, I'll come back and ruin you. Christ, how fucking dumb can you be? Couldn't see past that gigantic fuckin' nose of yours? Goddamn, dude."

Michael turned and stormed out of the cafeteria, leaving Gavin trembling on the floor with his ruined lunch. The Brit quickly pulled himself up onto his feet and hurried to Ray. He kept his head down as he did. The chatter in the cafeteria, which had quieted while Michael had been yelling at him, resumed at its obnoxious volume.

Gavin slid into the seat next to Ray and slumped down, his cheeks flushed a deep red.

"So, that was a thing," Ray said carefully, glancing over at Gavin.

"What a twat," Gavin muttered. His appetite had unsurprisingly become quite minuscule.

"Yeah, I know." 

"I didn't even mean to trip and he just bloody exploded," he snorted.

"Well, Creeper King," Ray murmured with a sly smile, "Just take it out on the hordes of monsters we'll be slaying tonight, as long as you remember to actually buy some health potions."

"That was one time!"

"Seven times, in the last two weeks."

"Ray of Roses, cheeky cat boy."

"For the last time, I'm a rabbit!"

Gavin laughed. He might've tripped and fallen off of Cloud Nine, but at least he still had Ray and the night of double experience.

Or at least, he had the night of double experience. Gavin had barely began setting up his laptop after he had gotten home from school when his phone had started to ring. He had almost ignored it but when he looked over, he saw Ray's name on the screen. Gavin picked up immediately, giddiness in his voice as he greeted him.

"Ray! You excited for tonight?"

"Damn, buy me dinner first," Ray joked weakly.

"Shut up," Gavin groaned. "So, what's going on?"

"I have some... bad news."

Gavin remained silent for a few moments before cautiously saying,

"What kind of bad news?"

"The kind of bad news that involves my mom confiscating my laptop and making me spend the night with my brother so we can 'bond'," Ray grumbled quietly.  
"What?!" Gavin practically shouted, his eyes growing wide.

"I know, I know!" he sighed.

"Bollocks, what am I supposed to do now?" the Brit whined.

"You have to go through with the plan! Grind some mobs, fuck up some dungeons. You have to do it for the both of us now," Ray replied, an almost confident tone in his voice.

"Ray, do you know who you're talking to?" Gavin asked dubiously.

"Yeah, well... I have to go now. Seriously though, go through with the plan. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Cheers, Ray," Gavin grumbled before hanging up. He tossed his phone onto his bed and stared at his laptop. Now what the hell was he supposed to do?

On one hand, he could just go through with the plan and stop whining about it. Sounded easy enough, right? Except Gavin would be going into battle without the one thing that usually kept him alive. He wanted to spend the night racking up experience points, not player deaths.

On the other hand, he could pull up Netflix instead and marathon Pokémon. Singing along to the theme song always put him in a good mood.

Gavin sighed, knowing that he had to go through with the plan. Double experience nights were rare and he wasn't going to throw it away just because Ray was gone. He finished setting up his laptop, plugged in his headphones, and slid into his office chair.

He hummed quietly as he clicked on the familiar shortcut on his desktop. The icon itself was simply of a golden shield with an 'N' carved into it. As dorky as it sounded, to both Ray and Gavin, the gold shield was much more than just a desktop shortcut. It was a place where they could go when nowhere else was an option.

When Gavin's parents fought for what seemed like hours, the Brit could sign on to Champions of Nydealle: The Dark Wars and ignore the sound of their yelling in favor of vigorous questing.

When Ray couldn't quite smother the gaping holes of loneliness caused by a long-gone dad, a hard working mother, and a commonly absent brother, he could just go and join in with a few of his online friends to go raiding.

The login window for Nydealle distracted him from his somber train of thought as soon as it popped up. He quickly typed in his username and password, a bubble of giddiness forming just below his sternum. It quickly grew as the game replaced the login window, the obnoxiously loud sound of swords clashing and demons hissing followed close behind. Gavin grimaced, he always forgot to take off his headphones just before the game opened up.

CreeperKing, or as his friends called him (to Gavin’s dismay), Creep, stood valiantly on a platform on Gavin’s screen. The tall, tanned elf resembled Gavin quite closely, not counting the long, pointed ears, lack of a huge nose, and the considerably less clumsy nature. Gavin waited a few moments, just until the elf’s idle animation was triggered. CreeperKing pulled his bow from off of his back and looked over it with an expression of interest, as if the character had never seen it before. The bow itself, as defined in the weapon description, was carved from the trunk of a golden tree and blessed by an angel of the great goddess of virtues, Citia. Gavin wasn’t sure what that meant, considering he didn’t exactly pay attention to the history of the game, but he did know that it gave him a huge advantage of two times damage against spirits and demons.

Gavin selected the character with a grin. When CreeperKing spawned in the town of Belil, the tight ball of excitement bloomed and plucked at his ribs. Prior to anything else, he stopped by a merchant, sparing no expense on potions.

Before he pulled up the map, he checked his friends list. While many of them were on, most likely reaping the benefits of double experience, one specific player was not. When Gavin typed 'RayOfRoses' into the search bar, his status came up as offline. 

He refreshed it once. Offline. 

Again. Still offline

Gavin sighed in defeat. He had been hoping that by some miracle, Ray would be on. Gavin's eagerness deflated slightly but it didn't deter him. He switched over to the map and fast-traveled to the Forest of the Oracles. The Nydealle woodland was nearby an isolated, high-level dungeon. Gavin wasn't sure how many players were already pillaging the dungeon but his guess was small. He had picked the server with the lowest amount of traffic. Despite the gibberish messages that kept popping up in the World Chat, the server was treating him well.

The forest, on the other hand, was not. It wasn't that monsters weren't appearing, the mobs of spirits, corrupted psychics, and devoted necromancers were plentiful and spawning on a regular basis. It was the fact that Gavin wasn't doing that well at handling them. The first few fights went well and the enemies had fallen victim to his virtual arrows one by one. He had watched in glee as his experience bar increased rhythmically with each deceased foe.

His night might have continued on like that if the mobs didn't keep coming, always faster than the last. Gavin kept up as best as he could, spamming the keyboard shortcuts for his potions. Damn cooldown timers. Gavin quickly found himself on the verge of death more times than he was comfortable with.

Gavin began leveling up, albeit slowly. More than just a few times, he had to respawn in Belil and teleport Creep back to the forest. The small fast-travel fee was beginning to worry him as he imagined how many times he would die in the dungeon. He hoped it wouldn't take too much of a toll of his gold, the potion hoarding having already done that for him.

The mobs kept coming and Gavin kept grinding, squawking like a prehistoric bird when his health bar fell too low for comfort.

The last straw came just an hour after dinner time, when Gavin had managed to scrape his way to level 60. He had heard it before he had seen it. A loud, low-pitched roar rumbled in his headphones. CreeperKing turned just in time to watch a behemoth of a rather demonic, skeletal bull come charging towards him, a masked necromancer following close behind on foot. Gavin's face paled at the sight of the beast. It was just his luck that a rare, and powerful, enemy had come stomping through the forest while he was alone. If Ray had been there, the two would've been ecstatic. Rare enemies dropped top loot and gave the players who killed it high levels of experience.

However, Gavin was alone, and facing a reanimated bull with an all-powerful necromancer was more intimidating than he remembered. CreeperKing dove out of the way before the bull could ram him but he didn't miss the bolt of lighting sent his way by the necromancer. It knocked a quarter of his health down and Gavin choked out a shrill shout.

If he could kill the necromancer, the bull would die with them, but if he focused his attacks on the necromancer the bull was left open the charge Creep. Then, he would have to dodge both the necromancer's and the bull's attacks all at once. Gavin groaned; grinding was much easier when there were at least two players fighting.

CreeperKing fired off arrow after arrow at the necromancer, slowly chipping away their health. The bull proved to be quite a problem though, bashing its bare skull into Creep when it had the chance and fuck, it packed a wallop. It easily snuffed out half of his health with critical hits.

The number of health potions in his inventory steadily decreased at a worrying pace as the battle continued. Despite this, victory looked like it was in Gavin's favor. With each successful attack against them, excitement bubbled up in his stomach. He couldn't wait to tell Ray about this since he'd most definitely be amazed.

Or he'd just laugh his ass off if Gavin couldn't pull it off. The necromancer's health drained to just a quarter and the number of Gavin's health potions turned into seven.

Seven turned into six. Quarter turned to twenty percent.

Six turned into five. The bull charged Creep. Five turned to four.

Four became three. Twenty percent ebbed slowly. The bull continued to be a brute. Three became two.

Gavin's excitement soon morphed into alarm and a distressed whine crawled out of his throat. Creep raised his bow, pulled an arrow from his quiver, and aimed for the necromancer carefully.

A sudden alert from his private messages caught Gavin's attention. He ignored it in favor of focusing on defeating the necromancer. Just as CreeperKing shot another arrow at the necromancer, another player burst out from the trees behind Creep. A warrior, decked from head to toe in shining silver armor, sprinted for the necromancer. They evaded the bull easily and slashed their sword towards the necromancer.

With the combined forces of CreeperKing and the new player, the necromancer's health hit zero and they dissolved into dust. The bull perished just a moment afterwards, giving one last roar before it disappeared into oblivion. Gavin whooped as his character leveled up twice, going from level 60 to level 62. He didn't even mind that the other player had already started sifting through the remaining loot.

Oh, right, the other player! Gavin quickly hovered his cursor over the warrior. The player name and a quick overlook of their stats popped up.

_Mogar, bloody top name for a warrior._

As Gavin pondered over how the other managed to snag the name before someone else did, an alert came from his private messages again. He glanced at Mogar, who had taken to just standing next to him, before pulling up the chat.

 **[Mogar]:** _ill save you princess!_

 **[Mogar]:** _you too stunned by your rescuer to look at this loot?_

Gavin grinned and rolled his eyes before replying.

 **[CreeperKing]:** _i had that battle under control, you bloody mong_

 **[Mogar]:** _what the hell is a mong_

 **[Mogar]:** _also thats a lie_

 **[Mogar]:** _you were fighting that thing for like fuckin 30 minutes_

 **[CreeperKing]:** _...were you watching_

 **[Mogar]:** _i figured you were going to run out of health pots at some point_

 **[CreeperKing]:** _creepy wanker_

 **[Mogar]:** _hey! i just saved your ass, you ungrateful lil shit_

 **[CreeperKing]:** _pfft you were just waiting until the last second to swoop in and steal yourself a bit of exp_

 **[Mogar]:** _nah_

 **[Mogar]:** _give me a lil credit, im a knight of that city chick_

 **[CreeperKing]:** _...citia?_

 **[Mogar]:** _yeah!_

 **[CreeperKing]:** _smegpot liar_

 **[Mogar]:** _stop making up fuckin words jesus christ_

**[Mogar]:** _and okay, half of that was sorta true??_

**[Mogar]:** _i mean, i was supposed to wait for you_

**[Mogar]:** _but mostly i was just waiting for you to eat shit and die_

**[Mogar]:** _and then i was going to swoop in for some exp_

**[CreeperKing]:** _i met you about 1 minute ago_

**[CreeperKing]:** _in 1 minute i have concluded that you are a prick_

**[Mogar]:** _1, im the prick who saved your fuckin precious little elven ass_

**[Mogar]:** _2, i guess you don’t want this bow the asshole dropped_

**[CreeperKing]:** _WHAT_

**[CreeperKing]:** _don’t you dare take that with you_

**[Mogar]:** _i don’t know, i think i could find a use for it_

**[CreeperKing]:** _moGAR_

Before Gavin could even shout at his computer screen, a trade request popped up. He laughed and settled back in his office chair before accepting the offer. Two small windows replaced the invite, one to show Gavin’s side of the trade and another to show Michael’s. When a small bow-like icon showed up in one of the slots on Michael’s side of the trade, Gavin clicked on it to see the description. He skimmed over the name and the description. There was a big theme of dwarves, angels, and the “forges deep within Nydealle” but Gavin was more interested in the stats. 

“Increases agility by a few points, gives holder a twenty five percent defense against any fire attack, and…” Gavin’s muttering trailed off and his eyes widened. 

“Two point five times damage against any soldier of the fallen goddess, Velene? Bugger my arse, that’s like every enemy in the game!” he shouted as he shoved himself away from his desk, elated at the prospect of having such a good weapon. Gavin suddenly fell silent, staring at the computer screen. 

“Shit, I have to give them something back…” he muttered to himself as he wheeled himself back to his laptop. Gavin searched through his inventory almost frantically. There had to be something in there that he wouldn’t need in the future that he could give to Mogar. A few moments later, he finally settled a few permanent stat boosters. There were two charms, one increased strength and the other increased vitality (both of which Gavin imagined he had no use for) and a rose-like flower that increased defense. He had been meaning to give it to Ray, mostly because it looked like a rose, but he figured he owed Mogar. 

He dragged all three boosters into his trade slots hastily and pressed ‘accept’, eager to get Creep’s hands on the bow. 

**[Mogar]:** _did you just give me a flower_

**[CreeperKing]:** _shut up, it increases your bloody defense stat or something_

**[Mogar]:** _you gave me a fuckin flower_

**[Mogar]:** _are you trying to court me, asshole?_

**[CreeperKing]:** _what? no!_

**[Mogar]:** _ahaha fuck_

**[CreeperKing]:** _damn wanker_

Another window popped up in the middle of Gavin’s screen. This time it was a friend request from Mogar. Gavin accepted it without a second thought. 

**[Mogar]:** _okay um shit_

**[Mogar]:** _the laptop is about to be ripped from my hands_

**[Mogar]:** _i guess ill talk to you tomorrow? maybe?_

**[Mogar]:** _idk whatever, see ya_

**[CreeperKing]:** _cheers, wanker_

**[CreeperKing]:** _ill talk to you tomorrow_

**[Mogar] has gone offline.**

Gavin leaned back in his chair, a grin on his face. It took a few moments to process what had happened. His new friend was quite the twat but admittedly, most of his friends acted the same exact way. He logged out a second later. With no Ray, no Mogar, and two health potions left, Gavin decided to skip the dungeons all together. Before the game closed, he caught a flash of a message in his chat. 

**[CreeperKing] has gone offline.**


	2. Juggling and Other Things That Confuse Gavin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin couldn’t walk the walk.
> 
> He could barely talk the talk (his common use of British slang wasn’t exactly appreciated by his peers).
> 
> But he could think the think, and that was all that mattered to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: homophobia, homophobic language, bullying
> 
> if you are triggered by any of these things, please use discretion when reading.

Gavin was a master at metaphorical juggling. Homework, friends, Nydealle; he could handle it all with ease.

He was like one of those street performers who juggled flaming knives. You know, the ones you thought would die a horrible, gruesome death before the end of their performance that never even got a scratch.

Now, _actual_ juggling…

Gavin didn’t like to think nor talk about the last time he juggled, but Ray certainly did. On a daily basis, Gavin was reminded that:

One, he was an idiot.

And that -

Two, he had somehow managed to break his toe and give himself a black eye while juggling three oranges.

He was clumsy, physically, but not mentally. Gavin could admit that he would never, in his entire life, ever have an Actual Juggling Career with a No Horrifying or Mentally-Scarring Injuries Guarantee, but he would also never allow anyone to tell him he didn’t know how to handle the shit on his plate.

Gavin couldn’t walk the walk.

He could barely talk the talk (his common use of British slang wasn’t exactly appreciated by his peers).

But he could think the think, and that was all that mattered to him.

He followed his mental schedule to a T. If one thing looked like it would take up too much of his time, he made damn sure that it didn’t. Gavin could be a powerhouse if he focused hard enough.

Gavin was like clockwork: very clumsy, very noisy clockwork.

Or at least, he had been.

Mogar had been an unexpected change. He considered the warrior to be too much of a friend to be completely mashed into the purely Nydealle category, and the fact that Mogar was just a player on CoN was enough for Gavin to second-guess completely putting him in the friend category.

He quickly became his own category. Gavin’s days became school, friends, homework, Nydealle, and Mogar. Considering that, Gavin was surprised it took Ray a week to figure out about his new online friend.

They had been grinding mobs of spirits in the arid badlands of Velene’s Landing when Ray had finally snapped at him.

“Goddammit! Gavin, what the fuck? You have died like a million fucking times!” the Puerto Rican shouted as he watched Gavin’s character hit the sand, unconscious, for the twentieth time that night.

“What? Bollocks, now I have to run all the way back. Why are we all the way out in the middle of nowhere anyways?” Gavin grumbled, a grimace on his face as he respawned in the closest town, Azmar, which was still a good ways away.

“Were you even paying attention?” Ray asked, clearly agitated.

“Well, yeah, what do you take me for?” Gavin retorted, his cheeks gaining a rosy hue.

“An idiot,” Ray deadpanned.

“Piss off, it’s not like I’m trying to get killed,” he sighed, rolling his eyes as Ray escalated into hysterics.

“You might as well equip a fucking sign that says ‘hello, I’m Creep and you should murder me’ and jump into the middle of the mob! What the hell is so distracting? You suck anyways, but fuck, I can’t even comprehend how off of your game you are right now,” the younger boy snapped.

There was silence between the two as CreeperKing stopped dead in his tracks. All Ray heard after a few moments was a snort and the start of laughter before he started yelling again.

“I swear to God, Gavin, I’m going to strangle you.”

“Sorry, sorry! Mogar keeps sending me these bloody stupid messages, they’re hilarious,” Gavin said in between fits of giggling, barely managing to type out a response before he started back up on his journey into the badlands.

Another bout of silence stretched between them and Gavin froze as he realized his mistake. Shit, maybe Ray wouldn’t notice the slip and instead, move on to lecturing Gavin on his tactics.

But as with every stupid thing Gavin did, Ray noticed.

“Who the fuck is Mogar?” he snorted, the corners of his lips tilting up into a small smirk.

“Sod off, he’s just another pissy little piss pot like you,” Gavin groaned, sagging against the back of his chair.

“Don’t you have a rule about your Nydealle friends though?” Ray laughed.

“No, I just -”

“None shall count if thee do not attend my school!” the younger boy mocked in a half-assed Cockney accent, doing his best and failing to not butcher the language.

“Jesus Christ, just shut up already,” Gavin groused.

“Seriously though, who is Mogar? I want to know. Don’t make me send him a friend request, you know I will,” Ray demanded.

“Alright! I met him when you were gone a week ago on double-experience night,” Gavin grumbled, folding his arms like a petulant child who was caught red handed. “He helped me in a battle and then we traded gubbins, now stop being a big bloody bag of knobs.”

The buzz of silence dripped through his headphones and Gavin scrubbed a hand over his face before he spoke again.

“Don’t you dare say it -”

“So, are you guys dating now or what?”

Gavin wanted to reach through the screen and punch Ray in the knob. The younger boy’s smug tone leaked out of his headphones and he could swear that he could hear Ray’s smirk.

“Ray, shut your stupid gob already,” Gavin snapped, “We’re just friends.”

“You know, it certainly doesn’t sound like that,” Ray teased.

“Stop running your mouth,” the Brit grumbled.

“Then hurry up! Holy shit, it’s taking you years to get here. Maybe if you would pay attention for five seconds, you wouldn’t have to keep running out here! Tell Mogar to shut the hell up, we need to do some grinding.”

And that was the last of that argument.

However, later that night when Ray had logged off and Gavin had gone to hang out with Mogar, he’d gotten a peculiar message.

**[Mogar]:** _do u know who the fuck RayOfRoses is?_

**[CreeperKing]:** _...one of my stupid friends. hang on._

Gavin slipped off his headphones and grabbed his phone, dialing Ray’s number. As he leaned back in his chair, listening to the phone ring for what felt like hours on end, Gavin thought. He thought about what he would eat for breakfast, about what Ray had said, about Mogar.

Never once in his life had Gavin heard someone talk about online relationships positively. Whether it was in class or on the news, those kinds of affairs either ended in a loss of innocence or a kidnapping. When he had first gotten into Nydealle, his mother had warned him about predators.

The thought that Mogar was anything less than a good person was a hard pill to swallow. However, imagining Mogar as a prowling beast with sharp claws and gnashing teeth brought a small smirk on to his face.

“Hello?” Ray slurred, sleep laced in his tone.

“Were you sleeping, lad?” Gavin asked smugly.

“Congrats, you woke me up. What the fuck do you want? We have school in the morning,” Ray snorted.

“Since when do you care about school?”

“Since Mr. Sorola said he’d fail me if I fell asleep in his class one more time.”

“Whatever, just don’t scare off Mogar with your bloody boyfriend talk,” Gavin said, exasperation leaking into his tone.

All Gavin heard was Ray’s tired laughter before he was met with the dial tone. He tossed aside the phone, told Mogar goodnight, and went to bed.

The morning, per usual, was uneventful. Classes were boring, assignments were just as dull, and Ray fell asleep in pre-calc, again. Gavin had tried to wake him up but nothing worked, from shaking him to throwing crumpled pieces of paper at his head.

Gavin had worried his best friend had slipped into a coma.

However, when the bell rang, Ray jolted awake with a streak of drool down his cheek. He collected his papers and asked Gavin for the assignment but The Brit could barely keep his laughter contained as he gave him the page numbers, his eyes straying to the quickly-drying line of spittle.

Ray eventually wiped the drool off after Gavin told him an hour later and they headed off in two different directions with a promise to meet back up for lunch.

And that’s why Gavin found himself waiting for Ray at his locker.

So, he waited.

And waited.

And waited, until the halls were empty and Gavin could hear the echoes of laughter and shouting from the cafeteria.

He waited until kids began to trickle out from the lunch room.

He waited until it wasn’t waiting anymore, and instead, it was more like loitering.

Gavin’s phone vibrated in his pocket, desperate for his attention, but he didn’t bother to check it. He knew it was Ray and he didn’t need to read his text to know that the younger boy wouldn’t make it.

Just as his mind began to wander off, another group of kids came sauntering down the hallway. The bright colors of their varsity lettermans caught Gavin’s eye and before he knew it, he spotted a familiar head of auburn curls. Gavin squinted slightly, a look of confusion on his face.

Were they really auburn?

When Gavin had been flat on his ass in the cafeteria last week, Michael’s hair had looked truly red in the cafeteria lighting.

Now, for the most part, they looked brown. All though, each time the temperamental boy passed directly under a light, his curls flashed copper tones.

Damn, Gavin couldn’t figure it out.

“What the hell are you looking at?” one of the boys snorted, snapping Gavin back into reality.

“Hey, Mikey, isn’t that the nerd that spilled his food on you?” another laughed as they all turned their attention on Gavin. Michael did nothing but sneer in Gavin’s general direction, not even bothering to meet his eyes.

“Better watch out, little faggot boy was staring at you. I think he has a crush,” the boy mocked, a vicious grin on his face.

The slur felt like a punch to the solar plexus. All of the air rushed out of his lungs and his cheeks burned. Gavin backed up against the brightly colored lockers, forcing his eyes to the ground. He watched the tiles, focused on the stains and the flecks of color. If he ignored them long enough, they’d leave.

Obnoxious laughter punched a hole through his focus and the noise dripped in between his eyes. He kept his gaze on the floor and his hands by his sides, clenched into trembling fists.

“Hey, stupid, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Michael scoffed. His friends cheered him on, waiting eagerly to see their friend’s temper flare.

“Fucking pay attention when I’m talking to you!” the curly-haired boy snarled.

Gavin concentrated on the floor.

“He’s fucking hopeless! Come on, let’s go, I’m not wasting anymore time on this fucking dipshit,” Michael sneered, his words dripping in scorn.

The boys chattered, throwing wayward insults his way as they continued on their way. Gavin let out a stuttering breath, his chest heaving. He looked up just in time to watch Michael turn and flip him off, mouthing the word _fag_.

Gavin turned and walked the opposite direction. A heavy pressure settled in his throat as the slurs carved deep scratches in the back of his skull.

A blanket of static wrapped around his head.

_Fag._

Ray was absent from chemistry and Gavin finally bothered to check his phone.

**From: rayman**  
 **To: gav in da usa**  
 **Sept Wed 18, 12:37 pm**  
 _got sick in english and then went home, go on without me!_

Gavin shoved his phone back in his pocket and rested his head on his arms. He zoned out a few minutes later, words ricocheting through his mind.

_Stupid._

When the class ended, he copied the page numbers for that night's homework off of another student and hurried out.

Gavin yearned to feel relief when he stepped into his last class. Study hall was usually a pleasant time for him; he could take a breather, maybe nap a little if the teacher wasn’t paying attention that day.

However, when he took his seat, all he felt was the same knot of dread in his stomach from lunch.

_Hopeless._

Gavin folded his arms on his desk and laid his head down. He dozed off somewhere between the bell ringing and the first twenty minutes of class.

He awoke to someone shaking his shoulder, jarring him from his oddly heavy nap. Gavin sat up quickly, a startled look on his face. Several other students around him were snickering quietly and that’s when Gavin noticed the imposing figure of his teacher looming above him.

“Talk to me after class,” Ms. Zuelch said, her tone hard and flat. While shorter than Gavin, he still found the blonde teacher intimidating.

He nodded quickly and turned back to his books, none of which were open. Rosy hues of embarrassment spread over his cheeks and he rubbed the back of his neck. When she had walked back to her desk, Gavin checked his phone. The time almost floored him.

He had slept for almost the entire period and he had been woken up with barely ten minutes left in class to spare. Gavin sighed in frustration and raked a hand through his hair.

He slumped down in his seat and just stared at his books.

Gavin found his mind wandering back to lunch.

_Faggot. Faggot. Faggot._

The word played on repeat in his mind, getting louder and sharper each time around. It had been so long since someone had looked him in the eye and spat that word in his face with such disgust.

Gavin swore he’d heard hatred and he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He’d never done anything in his life to those boys. Sure, he had been staring but it had only been because he was trying to figure out the damn color of Michael’s hair.

He’d noticed how bouncy his curls were and how well they complimented the star system of freckles spattered over Michael’s cheeks, but that didn’t matter.

Did it?

_Fag._

The bell jolted him out of his stupor and as the other students raced out of the class, he glanced down at his trembling hands. Gavin clenched them into fists and did his damndest to shove the slurs from out of his head.

He gathered his things and made his way over to the teacher’s desks, books clasped tightly against his chest. She looked over and upon seeing Gavin, her face softened. Ms. Zuelch leaned back in her chair and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Do you know why I woke you up so late?” she asked, folding her hands in her lap.

“No, ma’am,” Gavin replied, shaking his head.

“I saw you when you came in and it looked like you were about to throw up all over my floor. I almost sent you to the nurse’s office, to be quite honest, but then you fell asleep and I figured I’d leave you be,” she said, looking up at Gavin.

“Thank you?”

“Gavin, is anything wrong?” Ms. Zuelch questioned, concern in her voice.

“No, I’m tippy toppers, ma’am,” Gavin lied cheerily, praying to God that she couldn’t tell that his fingers were quivering.

Ms. Zuelch just watched him for a moment, eyes narrowed. Gavin could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears but a small smile graced her lips and she turned back to her work.

“You can go now, have a good evening, Gavin,” she said, nodding towards the door.

“You too, Ms. Zuelch.”

Gavin fled from the room, relief churning in his stomach. He had thought for sure that she would send him home with a note for his host parents. While the Ramseys were laid back and quite possibly the best adults ever, he knew they wouldn’t enjoy learning about Gavin’s habit of falling asleep in class.

It hadn’t been the first time he’d ever dozed off under Ms. Zuelch’s watch, but that had been the first time she’d pulled him aside after class for anything other than a warning.

The halls were beginning to empty, streams of students running out the doors with their backpacks slung over their shoulders. Other kids milled about, phones pressed to their ears as they undoubtedly called their rides.

Gavin headed for his locker, glad for the quickly thinning crowds. From his spot down the hallway, he could see it. For the first time since lunch, he cracked a smile. Gavin couldn’t wait to get home and blow off steam on Nydealle.

A strong hand snagged his arm the second he took a step towards his locker. It clamped down hard and briskly dragged him backwards. Gavin tripped, almost falling flat on his ass. When he was wrenched inside of a boy’s bathroom and turned to see the sight of an exasperated Michael, he thought his heart might explode.

This would surely be the day that he died.

Michael and his friends would beat the shit out of Gavin, and he would die from internal bleeding and ruptured organs. The curly-haired boy was just going to hold Gavin there and wait until his friends arrived and goddamn, Gavin sure as hell wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“Get off of me!” Gavin shouted, trying his hardest to wrestle his arm away from Michael.

“Keep your fucking voice down,” Michael hissed, tightening his grip on Gavin’s arm. “Christ, I just want to talk to you!”

“Right, like bollocking hell you want to! Let go of my arm, you prick,” Gavin snapped.

“If I let go, would you fucking stay still so I can talk with you?” Michael bargained, an irate look on his face.

Gavin huffed indignantly but nodded anyways. His arm was released a second later and he brought it to his chest, rubbing his aching wrist with his other hand.

“Now, what the hell do you want?” he asked, glaring at Michael.

“I want to apologize for what happened earlier,” the other boy mumbled, raking a hand through his curls.

“Excuse me?” Gavin snorted, baffled.

“I’m apologizing! Fucking Christ, dude, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did, and I’m sorry. I’m not like my friends, okay? Stop looking at me like I’m some kind of fucking monster,” Michael grumbled, folding his arms.

Gavin was absolutely stunned. Everything Michael had said and done earlier came rushing back into his head, and pure anger welled up in his throat.

“Of course, you’re just a pleasant lad caught up in the wrong crowd! Who the fuck do you think you are, Michael? You are a carbon copy of your bloody friends and guess what, the lot of you are monsters! It doesn’t work like that, you can’t just spit in people’s faces and apologize like it was an accident,” Gavin snapped, his hands curling into fists.

And now, it was Michael’s turn to be bewildered. His mouth opened and closed several times, trying to find his voice to explain himself but he came up with nothing.

“Right, now if you’ll excuse me -”

“Wait, please! Fuck, I can’t - I can’t think of anything to say except I’m sorry. Just give me a goddamn chance,” Michael begged.

“What are you going to do, Michael? Apologize until my bloody ears fall off?” Gavin replied, rolling his eyes.

“No, I’ll -”

“Forget it already! What does it even matter you?” Gavin groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“I’m not like my friends, I fucking promised myself I would never be like them. Let me make it up to you. It’s Gavin, right? I just need you to give me a chance, Gavin, just one chance,” Michael pleaded.

“How do you know my name?” Gavin asked, dumbfounded.

“ _Gavin!_ ”

“Alright, fine, you stupid git! Take your bloody chance,” he sighed. “It’s not like you’ll remember it tomorrow.”

“I will.”

With nothing left to say, he turned and walked out. When he finally got to his locker, he let out a breath he felt like he had been holding for ages and pressed his forehead against the cool metal.

Plenty of things had confused him before, like most riddles and how to do taxes, but he had never encountered anything quite so uniquely befuddling as Michael Jones.


	3. Champions of Nyquil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took Gavin all of two seconds to notice just how cute Michael was. With freckles like constellations of stars and a warmth in his deep brown eyes that makes Gavin’s stomach flutter, he’s not sure how he hadn’t noticed it sooner.
> 
> Except, he had. A memory in the back of his head tugged at his mind. Gavin knows that when Michael’s lips curl up into a soft smile that dimples his cheek and makes the skin around his eyes crinkle, his stomach should swell with butterflies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: bullying, homophobia, homophobic language
> 
> if you are triggered by any of those things, please proceed with caution!
> 
> look who updated! hope you guys enjoy it, i particularly had a good time writing it! :) if you have any questions, make sure to comment.

Homeroom was such a drag without Ray. Gavin was on the verge of falling asleep when he felt a piece of balled up paper hit him in the back of the head. He glanced back, eyes narrowed into a glare as he looked for the culprit. All of his classmates were either almost falling asleep too or doing their work. His eyes strayed to a familiar head of auburn hair before he forced himself to turn back around.

Ray, that bastard, was out sick again, leaving him all alone. Classes became infinitely more boring when Gavin didn't have anybody to pester, and it was making him restless. He'd probably catch a ride with Ray's older brother later, check up on him, possibly make fun of him for having the shits.

He had told Gavin over text about a burrito that had been left out overnight that he had wolfed down yesterday morning for breakfast. Halfway through English, his stomach felt like it was rotting. Of course, Gavin hadn't offered any words of comfort or encouragement, instead choosing to laugh his ass off for an hour after receiving the text.

It's not like -

Another wadded up piece of paper hit him, this time clipping the edge of his ear. Gavin didn't even bother looking back, instead he just reached his hand back and flipped whoever it was off once the teacher looked away.

He didn't even get a chance to get back into his train of thought when another paper hit him, this time much larger than the rest. Gavin growled in frustration and snatched the ball of paper off of the floor where it had landed.

Gavin opened it, smoothing it out as he did. Words unraveled before his eyes, and also a crude drawing of a ghost with a dick, but he, for the most part, ignored that. The note itself read,

> _FUCKING OPEN THE NOTES ALREADY HOLY SHIT, I've been hitting you with paper for the last five minutes, pay attention goddamn. PS I am pretty sure you dribbled on your chin_

Gavin didn't have to be a genius to figure out where the notes came from. One look at all of the curses words and Michael's name popped into his head. He pointedly tossed it off of his desk, not even bothering to glance back to see if Michael had seen him do it.

When a pencil hit him in the back, he was quite sure that Michael had seen it. The notes kept coming, a little harder now, along with a few pens and pencils. Gavin didn’t reply to any, of course, but he was stunned that Mr. Heyman hadn’t even noticed what was going on. He felt both insignificant and relieved.

Class passed slowly, every moment feeling a little something like torture as Michael pelted him with paper. His hands were clenched into tight fists, knuckles white and muscles straining.

If Michael wanted to live -

_Tap._

Goddamnit -

_Tap._

That _fucking_ twat -

_Tap._

Gavin whipped around in his seat, a murderous glare in his narrowed eyes. Michael was poised to flick another paper bit at him, but when he saw how Gavin was seething, he shrank back, eyes wide. He put his hands up as if to surrender, making a point to toss the paper behind him and close his notebook.

The Brit slowly turned back around, lips pressed into a thin line. When the bell rang, it felt like hearing angels sing. He slammed his book shut, gathered his things in his arms, and stood. He waited for a moment as the other students ran out the door, practically becoming a stampede as they fought their way out of class.

Gavin stepped out from behind his desk and before he could walk out of the classroom, a hand caught his wrist. He hadn’t even realized that Michael had stayed behind too.

“Sorry for the whole note thing,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

“That was bloody annoying, I wanted to punch you right in the gob,” Gavin snorted.

“I was just trying to get your attention!”

“Did it cross your idiot brain that I didn’t want to pay attention to you?”

“Gavin,” Michael said, exasperated. “I remembered, okay? For fuck’s sake, I’m trying, but you have to give me the time to actually make it up.”

Gavin just watched him for a moment, eyes narrowed. Michael had remembered, but he wasn’t going to let him off that easy, especially when he knew that the bastard would just toss him aside later. Gavin knew his type, the kind that stuck around just long enough to feel better about themselves.

Mr. Heyman cleared his throat loudly, glancing over at the two boys who were still left in his classroom.

“Your next class starts in three minutes, you should probably get a move on,” he suggested with a noncommittal shrug. It was his free period; he didn’t really care if Gavin and Michael stayed or left. Though, their other teachers certainly would.

Both of the boys muttered an apology, finally noticing that they were wasting a fair amount of time. At about the same time, they also realized that Michael hadn’t let go of Gavin’s wrist. Flustered, the curly-haired boy released him like he had been burned and Gavin quickly folded his arms.

“Can we at least talk later?” Michael pleaded.

“When? Lunch?” Gavin asked begrudgingly.

“Actually, I was thinking about after school,” Michael replied sheepishly. “Because, you know, I hang out with my friends at lunch and they’d get the wrong idea if I suddenly started hanging out with you instead.”

“Yeah, the wrong idea,” Gavin laughed, a bitter tone in his voice.

“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds bad.”

“Bye, Michael,” the Brit said, rolling his eyes as he turned and started towards the door.

“Oh, come on!” Michael sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. He let Gavin go though; he thought it’d be better not to fuck up anymore than he already had. 

Michael was good at plenty of things, Gavin knew this. Everybody was good at something, it was a fact of nature. As he walked away from the classroom, down the quickly-emptying hallway, he listed off what he knew.

One, Michael was a stellar football player, even if he heard rumors about him wanting to quit the team because it was too much work.

Two, he tried. He seemed to give up easily, but he tried.

Three, as Gavin had quickly realized, Michael knew how to stick his foot in his mouth like nobody's business.

With a shrug of his shoulder, Gavin resigned into knowing that he, too, would be something Michael gave up. Honestly, he wasn't too sure how he felt about it. Michael was an asshole, that much was true, but he couldn't help but feel bad. Bad in the way that there was a small pit where his stomach should be.

What a twat, making him feel like that. Gavin was sure Michael had a million other things to apologize for and then fuck up even more so. He just wasn't expecting to be one, nor did he want to be one.

Gavin shook his head and grimaced. Today was going to be a long day.

And for God's sake, it was the longest day Gavin had ever experienced. He slaved his way through English, tripped three times in the hallway, and ran out of lunch money. The lunch lady had given him a sympathetic look and before he could protest, shoved a paper bag in his hands and ushered him away.

He had gotten one of those lunches for the kids who didn't have money to eat. He bloody didn't want it though! What if someone else needed it? Gavin's stomach was growling though, and it's not like they couldn't whip up another PB &J, stuff it in a bag alongside an apple, and give it away.

When he spotted Michael and his pack of monsters, he forced himself not to lose his appetite. Gavin even fixed a hard glare at them before one of them howled at him, calling him a plethora of slurs. He didn't hear half of them; he was too busy trying to maintain his glare with Michael.

The shouting one stepped forward and Gavin fled. He was just trying to make a point, not get his face bashed in. Despite the expletives knocking against the back of his mind, rattling like a quarters in a washing machine, something felt different.

Maybe it was the whole 'monster' thing he had taken to holding over Michael's head, he couldn't tell. Anger was a strong repellent, but it was as fleeting as it was powerful.

He spent the entirety of Study Hall staring at the far wall, counting the various stains as the whole spiel replayed over and over again.

_What the fuck are you looking at, you limp-wristed sack of fairy shit? You got a lot of fucking nerve, fag, staring at us like that!_

In all honesty, a pit of fear formed in his stomach with each word. It made Gavin desperately want the anger back, for just the barest amount of protection. Rage was a terrifying thing and apparently, to the football team, there was nothing more enraging than a gay kid.

The last bell rang, signalling the end of the school day. Gavin rose out of his seat, gathered his books, and hurried out. He missed the worried glance Ms. Zuelch threw his way as he slipped out into the crowded hallway. He figured that if he was going to be beat to death, he'd rather have witnesses.

Except as he stuffed his backpack full of papers and books, the only obnoxiously bright letterman that caught his eye belonged to Michael, who approached him slowly with a hand caught half in a surrendering motion and half in a wave. The curly-haired boy motioned towards the bathroom just across the hall and Gavin couldn't help but roll his eyes.

Gavin slung his backpack over his shoulder, straightened his back, folded his arms, and followed after Michael. If he acted tough, it would seem real, right? Bollocks, he never was the best of actors, but goddammit, he would try.

"If you're here to say sorry, you can bloody forget all about it," Gavin said before he could get a word out.

"That's not -"

"Then why?"

"Fucking Christ almighty, would you let me get a goddamn word out?" Michael snapped.

"Bye, Michael," was Gavin's icy reply.

"No, I mean - fuck, why do you have to do that? It's like you make me fuck up," Michael groaned.

"No, I'm sure that it's just you," Gavin snorted.

"Do you want to hang out?" Michael asked bluntly.

"What?"

"I said -"

"I know what you said! Why would I say yes?" Gavin squawked, taken aback.

"Because school sucks?" Michael offered, shrugging.

"Because school sucks," Gavin reiterated slowly, stressing each syllable.

"Yeah, you know... there's bad cafeteria food and all of the freshmen are loud as fuck," he mumbled, as if he knew he was digging himself deeper into his hole.

"No."

"Come on!" Michael whined, throwing his hands upward.

"I said no," Gavin replied firmly, shaking his head. He turned to leave but Michael caught his wrist again for the second time that day.

"One chance."

"You're bloody mad," Gavin muttered, shaking his head.

"Hear me out, Gavin. Just give me one chance. We can play video games and I can get my mom to order pizza, and -"

"Do you have Halo?" he sighed.

"Four? Yeah, definitely," Michael replied, a grin beginning to form on his face.

"Bollocking _hell_."

Michael released his wrist, content with the outcome. He smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets. Gavin just watched him, a wary look in his eyes.

"Can you... can you wait to walk out after me though?" the curly-haired boy asked, his smile faltering. "My mom's in the parking lot, I'll tell her to wait. You can't miss her car, it’s blue as fuck."

"You're a prick, but _fine_ ," Gavin said, a biting tone in his voice.

Michael grinned and brushed past Gavin as he left. The Brit rolled his eyes and waited a few moments before he followed his lead. He walked in the opposite direction and called Geoff.

“ _Hey buddy, what’s up? You need a ride or something?_ ” he greeted him. Gavin could practically hear his lazy grin through the receiver.

“No, I was just calling to say I’m gonna be home later. I’m hanging out with…” he trailed off, frowning. What was he supposed to say? Friend, acquaintance, asshole who was trying his hardest to get Gavin to accept his apology?

“Michael,” Gavin finished dryly.

“ _New friend?_ ” The poorly disguised shock in his voice made Gavin snort.

“Yeah, sure. I’ve got to go now.”

“ _Have fun, take your time. It’s been awhile since you’ve hung out with anybody besides Ray._ ”

Before he got a lecture from Geoff about his social life, Gavin hung up and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He contemplated just skipping out and heading down into town until he felt like going home. Shit, he didn’t have any money though. He groaned loudly and walked to the parking lot, wondering if he would end up regretting his decision.

True to his word, Gavin knew immediately which car was Michael’s mom’s. A blindingly blue minivan sat in the middle of an almost empty parking lot. Besides, he could see Michael in the passenger seat.

He was… _dancing_?

A laugh bubbled up in Gavin’s throat as he watched Michael rock and dip as much of his body as was possible. He walked forward, almost cautiously. Suddenly, Michael flung his hand forward and pointed. Gavin almost froze, worried Michael had caught him watching, but as he came even closer, he noticed that his eyes were squeezed shut.

The woman who sat in the driver’s seat, who Gavin presumed was Michael’s mom, was muffling a laugh into her hand. Unlike Michael, she had noticed Gavin approaching and was awaiting her son’s imminent embarrassment.

Gavin was practically already in the back of the van when Michael finally stopped dancing long enough to look for him. He was walking next to the passenger door, heading for the door past it, as Michael opened his eyes. The curly-haired boy practically shot through the roof of the minivan when he saw Gavin on the other side of his window. The Brit could see him frantically turning down a dial on the radio.

He didn’t even bother holding in his laughter as he slid the car door open. Michael’s face was flushed, nearly crimson. He sat stock still, arms folded tightly with his mouth set in a tight, straight line.

“You’re an asshole,” Michael snapped, glaring back at Gavin. Of course, that only encouraged his laugh even more so. Gavin barely crawled into the back seat before he doubled over, clutching his stomach. Michael’s mom couldn’t help but laugh too, which didn’t make Michael feel any better. He groaned in frustration and sank low in his seat.

Gavin quelled his giggling long enough to finally close the car door and buckle his seat belt. The car ride to Michael’s was practically silent, apart from the soft music coming from the speakers and the chuckles that Gavin couldn’t keep to himself.

When they got through his front door, Michael was still fuming. He stormed upstairs, presumably to his room, before Gavin even toed off his shoes. He glanced at his mother and received a shrug.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Ms. Jones,” he said, just before he followed after Michael.

“Of course, Gavin,” she replied, clapping him on the shoulder gently. “It’s the last room at the end of the hallway. He’s got posters all over the door, so you’ll know if you have the right door.”

Gavin nodded and climbed the stairs slowly. Michael was certainly ruining the image Gavin had built for him. Instead of being a mingy bully who feasted on the souls of the innocent and punched children as a hobby, he was beginning to look more and more like a dork.

He shook his head and headed for the only door with posters. A glossy poster of Master Chief in all of his glory stared him down, an assault rifle in one hand with a grenade in the other. The door itself was opened just a crack and without knocking, he pushed it open and stepped in. Michael was already on the bed, controller in hand.

“You’re a dick, you know that right?” he growled, glaring at Gavin.

“Top moves there, Michael,” Gavin snickered as he took a seat next to Michael, leaving about a foot and a half of space between them.

“Asshole,” he muttered. “The other controller is on the desk, chuckles.”

Gavin rolled his eyes and stood back up. Next to the controller, was a laptop, open and awake. He grabbed the controller but not before something on the monitor caught his eye. Was that -

“Gavin, come on, are we playing Halo or not? I’m just itchin’ to crush some little fuck’s dreams,” Michael practically shouted, successfully getting his attention.

“Jesus Christ, calm down,” Gavin snorted as he retreated back to the bed.

“Shut up.”

After a moment of relative silence as Michael went searching for an online game in Team Slayer, Gavin said,

“You know, you look like a wanker when you dance.”

“Like… I look like I’m jerkin’ it?” Michael asked, a humorous light sparking in his eyes.

“What? No! You look like an idiot,” Gavin snapped, furrowing his eyebrows. However, Michael burst out into laughter anyways.

“Is that how you jerk off?” he teased breathlessly, barely managing to get the words out between bouts of laughter. Before he knew it, Gavin was giggling along. 

They were both howling with laughter in no time flat, even as the game started and their teammates ran off without them. Each clutched at their stomach tightly, tears in their eyes. No matter how many times Michael repeated the joke and Gavin squeaked in reply that it hadn’t even been that funny, they were still laughing hysterically.

There was just something contagious about Michael’s laugh and apparently, Michael thought the same thing about Gavin’s. When they finally calmed down, stomachs sore and cheeks streaked with tears, they flopped back against Michael’s bed.

“That was bloody stupid,” Gavin said after a few moments of silence, a grin on his face.

“I’ll admit, it was a pretty shitty joke,” Michael chuckled, glancing over at Gavin.

“It was awful,” he snorted, looking back at him.

It took Gavin all of two seconds to notice just how cute Michael was. With freckles like constellations of stars and a warmth in his deep brown eyes that makes Gavin’s stomach flutter, he’s not sure how he hadn’t noticed it sooner.

Except, he had. A memory in the back of his head tugged at his mind. Gavin knows that when Michael’s lips curl up into a soft smile that dimples his cheek and makes the skin around his eyes crinkle, his stomach should swell with butterflies.

But it doesn’t. All he can see is Michael’s scowl as he walks away, but not before he turns to flip Gavin off. He remembered the way Michael’s front teeth dig into his bottom lip as he mouths the word _fag_ as if he’s watching it for a second time.

Gavin scrambled off of the bed, onto his feet. What the hell is he doing? Why, of all the people in the bloody world, is he here with _Michael_? He clenched his jaw and balled his hands up into fists.

“Gavin?” Michael said as he sat up, eyebrows raised.

“What’s your problem?” Gavin snapped.

“My problem?” Michael sputtered. “What the hell is even going on with you?”

“What are you even getting out of this, Michael? Do you think you can just get away with everything you do?”

“What -”

“You called me a faggot and bloody stupid!”

Michael snapped his mouth shut, a deep flush washing out his freckles.

“That’s - That wasn’t real,” Michael said quietly, each syllable stressed.

“Oh? Stupid me, could’ve sworn it was!”

“I’m sorry, Gavin.”

“Sorry isn’t worth anything,” Gavin growled.

“What is worth something then?” Michael snapped, standing up to be somewhat level with Gavin, even if he was an inch taller than him.

“An explanation, maybe?” he sneered, folding his arms.

“Do you know who everyone at school thinks I am? Who my friends think I am? Don’t you think it would look really fucking weird if I didn’t do anything?”

“They didn’t even notice you when you looked back and called me a fag! You got an excuse for that too?” Gavin asked, eyes narrowed into a glare as Michael stepped up to him.

“I’m just - I’m…” Michael trailed off, like all of his anger had suddenly withered away.

“You’re just what, Michael?” Gavin snapped.

“I’m gay, you stupid, sack of shit!” Michael shouted, his hands shooting up towards the ceiling. “I’m as gay as the sky is blue, and I’m on a fucking football team with a bunch of jack-asses! I called you a faggot because I thought it’d make me feel better, and guess what? It fucking didn’t, so can you just get off my goddamn ass for one _fucking_ second?”

If Gavin had thought he’d seen Michael’s rage before, it was nothing compared to this. He couldn’t even get a single word out, too shocked to even blink. Michael turned on his heel and stormed to the other side of the room, hands clenched into fists so tight that Gavin could see his knuckles turn white.

“Michael,” Gavin said, his throat feeling a bit tighter than usual. There were a million things that he could say but none of them were coming to mind.

When Michael turned back around, Gavin expected him to rush back over and promptly smash his fist into Gavin’s teeth. He didn’t expect Michael’s sickly pale, panic-stricken face or the wetness in his eyes.

“You can’t tell anybody! I’m _dead_ if you say anything to anybody at school. Please, Gavin, I-I can’t - you can’t, please,” Michael blubbered, grabbing handfuls of his curls.

“Never, not another soul,” Gavin said quickly, shaking his head so rapidly he thought he was knocking his brain around in his skull.

They stood there, stock-still, and just stared at each other. When Michael just sighed and trudged back to his bed, wiping away the tears that had been threatening to spill over, Gavin let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. The curly-haired boy picked up his controller and stared at the screen in front of him as he promptly exited out of their aborted game of Halo. Gavin took his time as he ambled back over and took his seat next to Michael again.

“I can’t believe I told you. The only other people who know are my parents, like what the fuck?” Michael snorted quietly, a forced tone of humor in his voice. “You know what, I’m exhausted now. Can we just chill and not talk about school or any of that bullshit anymore? At least not tonight, I think I’ve had enough.”

“Same here, bloody wore me out.”

“Netflix?”

“Pokémon?”

"Yeah."

They settled down, sprawled out over Michael’s bed. One episode in and they were laughing again. For Gavin, it was mostly at the hilarity of the situation. They were just a bunch of idiot knobs, weren’t they?

Around six, Michael’s mom finally ordered two extra large pepperoni pizzas and Gavin stepped out into the hall to call Geoff to tell him he wouldn’t be home for dinner.

“Geoff?”

“ _Yeah, buddy?_ ”

“I’m, uh, I’m staying for dinner, so I won’t be home for a bit.”

“ _Of course, take your time. I hope you're having a good time. Usually you’re over at Ray’s or playing that game of yours. What was it? Champions of Nyquil?_ ”

“Nyquil? Seriously? I know you know what it’s called.”

“ _Yeah, yeah. Champions of Nydealle, fuckin’ dork, now go hang out with your friend, I got a date with a beautiful woman._ ”

“You’re taking Griffon out?”

“ _Wasn’t going to, but now that you’re gone, there’s no reason not to._ ”

“Right, bloody hell, tell me how you really feel. Bye, Geoff.”

“ _See you later, kid._ ”

As he hung up and slid his phone into his pocket, his mind went reeling back to the one thing he hadn’t stopped thinking about until that day: Mogar.

Shit, he was probably waiting for Gavin to get on, wasn’t it? Bollocks, what an ass he was. He’d have to apologize for it later, if he was still on. Maybe he could just skip out now, tell Michael that Geoff said he needed to come home.

“Hey, idiot, I’m starting the next episode without you if you don’t get your ass in here!” Michael shouted from inside his room.

Gavin couldn’t help but grin. His day had been absolutely crazy, what with the whole Michael’s gay thing, but he could tell they were both feeling better. Once they had shouted at each other and Michael let the cat out of the bag, it felt like there was less tension between them. There’s was definitely less anger, that was for sure. And Michael? Well, Michael was turning out to be a lot different than Gavin had anticipated.

Mogar could wait for one night.


	4. Fuck You, Hazel Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christ, to think Michael thought he could be bought with snacks, icee be damned.

It took Gavin one week and a late-night-almost-turned-sleepover to realize he was completely screwed. 

Michael’s one chance turned into Gavin going home with him a second time, and a third, and a fourth. On Wednesday, they wrestled in Michael’s backyard and played Dance Dance Revolution with an old, beat-up mat on an equally as old and beat-up original Xbox after Michael had made an offhand comment about still having it.

On Thursday, they grabbed a few snacks from Michael’s pantry and walked down to the family park just a block away. Michael had worn a baseball cap and a gray sweatshirt, just in case any of his teammates were there that same day. Gavin left early, practically fuming. Leave it to Michael to ruin a perfectly nice day.

On Friday, Michael was all apologies and no bite. After classes ended, he had pulled Gavin into the bathroom once again. The Brit had almost started laughing, it seemed that the bathroom had become their place. He begged and begged Gavin to hang out again, rattling off bullshit reasons of why he was an asshole. Michael very nearly got down on his knees before Gavin caved and hauled him to the parking lot, despite the curly-haired boy’s panicked protests.

“Gavin, _Gavin_ , what the fuck are you doing? What if one of my teammates sees me? What if they see you and then me? Oh, God, I am so dead, and you killed me,” Michael babbled as Gavin shoved him out the front door, rolling his eyes.

“You’re such a pissy baby, just shut your gob,” he snorted, catching his wrist like Michael had done to him many times before.

“They’re going to think we’re holding hands!” Michael hissed, nearly in hysterics.

“You’re overreacting.”

“You’re an asshole! What the fuck is your problem? What did I ever do to you?”

Gavin vehemently shoved Michael’s hand away, lips curled back in a sneer. He turned and before he could storm off, Michael grabbed a handful of his shirt. Gavin glanced back, expecting an explanation. What he got was Michael staring down at the concrete, curls hanging in his eyes.

He let go slowly, his fingertips still brushing against the fabric to make sure he could stop Gavin if he tried to leave again.

“What are you doing?” the Brit asked, frowning.

Michael didn’t answer, he just shoved his arm back towards Gavin. He didn’t even flinch when slender fingers wrapped around his wrist gently. Both boys trembled, each for different reasons. They sprinted to Michael’s mom’s car, feet pounding against the asphalt as their lungs heaved for air. Gavin let go of Michael’s wrist only to climb into the back of the car.

“Go!” Michael shouted, breathless.

There were a few moments of silence before Gavin finally caught on.

“And bloody step on it!” he called out, raising his fist valiantly in the air. He ended up punching the roof of the van on accident. Gavin yelped in pain and as Michael and Mrs. Jones burst into giggles, he cradled his fist against his stomach. The pain quickly subsided, and he found himself laughing along.

They stopped at a local ice cream shop. Both boys opted to stay in the car while Michael’s mom retrieved their frozen treats. Michael made an excuse that it was blistering hot outside and that it would be better for their fragile, still-growing bodies to stay in the air conditioned car. Mrs. Jones didn’t argue with him, especially when she caught Gavin rolling his eyes before he backed up Michael’s excuse.

There were many times where pointing out people’s bullshit was needed. She could tell that this was not one of those times.

After another few moments of unbearable silence, Gavin asked,

“What do you think Martha Stewart was like when she went to prison?”

Michael turned around in his seat slowly, staring at Gavin like he had sprouted a second head. For a second, he expected Michael to start spewing his normal slew of (hopefully) affectionate insults. Instead, he replied quietly,

“I bet she was like Yoga Jones, but with craft shit instead.”

This time, it was Gavin’s turn to stare at him.

“Who?”

“Yoga Jones.”

“I heard you the first time, idiot. Who is that?” Gavin snapped, glaring at him.

“You’ve never watched Orange is the New Black?” Michael asked quietly, understanding dawning in his eyes.

“Nope.”

Michael practically exploded.

“What the fuck? Who doesn’t watch it?”

Gavin didn’t even get the chance to sarcastically answer his rhetorical question before he went off on what could be the World’s Loudest Tangent.

“Fuck you, we’re watching it tonight. Hell, we’re going to marathon it. I will not allow one of my friends to be a clueless idiot. That doesn’t even make any sense, anyone with a Netflix account should be required to watch it. You know, I think…”

Even as Michael continued to rant, Gavin stopped listening to moment he realized what he had said. _Friend_. The cynic in him laughed. Friends weren’t ashamed to be seen with each other out in public, but the rest of him told the cynic to shut the fuck up because at least they were getting somewhere.

He had easily admitted to being Michael's friend, at least to a few choice people, but to hear Michael say it? Gavin couldn't help but grin.

"Gavin? Are you even listening?" Michael snorted, turning around in his seat to look at Gavin.

"Not really," he replied sheepishly.

"Cheeky bastard," the curly-haired boy laughed, a bright smile on his face.

Butterflies bubbled up in his stomach and he chuckled along with him, afraid he'd say something dumb if he tried to retort. Thankfully, that was the moment Mrs. Jones finally slid back into the driver's seat with three small bowls of ice cream in her arms.

"Thanks for the help, boys," she said sarcastically, a small grin on her face.

"You're welcome!"

"Okay, moose tracks for mom and cake batter for Michael and Gavin. I forgot to ask what you guys wanted before I ran inside, so I got Michael's favorite. I hope that's alright, Gavin."

"Yeah, it's top, Mrs. Jones!" Gavin said, excitedly taking the bowl from her hands.

The rest of the car ride was spent in relative silence, apart from Michael unashamedly singing and dancing along to the music on the radio. 

When they got to Michael's house, the taste of cake batter still sweet on their tongues, they buckled down for their Orange is the New Black marathon. Or at least, Michael selected it on Netflix and then refused to move, forcing Gavin to watch it with him.

Admittedly, Gavin got sucked in quite easily. Before he knew it, he was practically glued to the screen. When Michael left to get snacks, he stayed right where he was, enraptured. When Michael got back, he'd taken to splaying across the mattress. He didn't even bother asking Gavin to move, instead he set the snacks down on his desk and bellyflopped onto his back.

Gavin choked out a grunt, squirming underneath Michael. The curly-haired boy laughed loudly, grabbing his wrists before pinning them against his bed.

"Get off of me, you mong!" Gavin shouted.

"Nope! What's the magic word?"

"Sod off," he snorted.

"Not even close. It was bitch, as in you're a bitch for making me get snacks alone," Michael said, snickering as he climbed off of Gavin and flopped down next to him.

"Did my little Michael miss me?" Gavin teased.

"Nah, fuck you," Michael replied quickly, rolling his eyes.

They continued on like that for the night, insulting and poking fun at each other as they continued their marathon. Neither of them had even realized the time until Gavin's phone started ringing. He scrambled out into the hallway before he answered his phone.

"Hey Geoff," the Brit answered sheepishly.

" _Hey, buddy, forget something?_ "

"Sorry, didn't even realize the time."

" _Gav, it's midnight. How did you not notice?_ "

"It's Michael, I swear! He made me watch that Netflix show with the prison birds, you know?”

“ _Right, of course, you were watching a show,_ ” Geoff said, snickering. “Should I come get you or what?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. I mean, I bloody don’t have anything and I was supposed to be… Oh, _bollocks_ , I was supposed to be raiding with Ray tonight! Bugger my arse, I spaced it. You gotta come get me, Geoff, Ray’s gonna _murder_ me.”

“ _Alright, alright, calm down, asshole. Be there in ten minutes._ ”

“Hurry, Geoff! I’m a dead man!”

Gavin was met with the dialtone a moment later. He sighed and shoved his phone into his pocket before he trudged back into Michael’s room. Ray was going to bite his bloody head off the moment he put on his mic; he could already hear the shouting.

“Geoff just called. He’s coming to pick me up in ten minutes,” Gavin said as he sat down and flopped back against the bed next to Michael, who almost immediately assumed the same position.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Fuck you, Hazel Grace.”

Gavin burst out into laughter and elbowed him in the ribs. Michael shouted in dismay and sat up, only to turn and tackle him right off the bed. Fifteen minutes and a wicked wrestling session later, the doorbell finally rang.

Both panting and red in the face, the two boys scrambled up onto their feet. They crept out into the hallway quietly as Michael’s mom answered the door. While the two adults conversed over topics such as Gavin and his clumsiness, Michael and Gavin just looked at each other. When Michael broke out into a smile, Gavin did too.

“Hey, Gavin, Geoff’s here!” Michael’s mom called up to them.

“Be down in a second!” he shouted.

The Brit turned back towards Michael with a grin and opened his mouth to say his goodbyes. Instead, he was effectively silenced when the curly-haired boy grabbed his wrist gently. Gavin stared at him, mouth agape with his skin tingling just beneath Michael’s fingertips.

“Get that stupid look off your face,” he said, laughing nervously.

Gavin’s mouth snapped shut.

“I just- we don’t have each others numbers, yeah?” Michael chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Almost immediately, Gavin shoved his phone towards Michael with a lopsided smile.

“Just enter your number, you donut.”

“Donut?” Michael snorted.

“Does idiot sound better to you?” Gavin retorted.

“Neither sounds better!”

“Michael, your bollocking number already!” he groaned, pushing his phone against the other boy’s chest.

“Right, shit,” Michael swore.

He let go of Gavin’s wrist to grab his phone and Gavin couldn’t help but feel disappointed. As Michael entered his number into his contacts, he let his fingertips graze against his wrist. His nerves didn’t react the same way. They knew Gavin, they were in his own bloody body. Michael was new territory.

“Gavin, hurry up!” Geoff groaned loudly.

“Alright, bloody calm your tits, Geoff!” Gavin called back.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Michael said, laughing. “Bloody tits, man, that’s gross.”

“Shut up, you mong. I’ll probably be up late, if you want to call me or anything.”

“Maybe, dude. Hey, you want to hang out again next week?"

"Hell, yeah," Gavin laughed, elbowing Michael.

"Fuckin' prick, go home," Michael replied with a wide grin before he pushed him towards the stairs playfully.

A few moments later, Gavin was out the door with a smile that spread from ear to ear, Geoff just a few feet in front of him. As he slid into the passenger seat of Geoff’s car, he shot off a quick text to Michael, after he rolled his eyes at the name Michael had set for his contact.

**From: gav in da usa**  
 **To: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **March 15, 2014, 12:29 am**  
 _ur a donut, michael. coolest person ever?? bloody nerd._

A few moments later, Gavin’s phone vibrated, signalling a new message.

**From: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **To: gav in da usa**  
 **March 15, 2014, 12:31 am**  
 _right, IM the nerd._

"So, Michael, huh?" Geoff said, but his comment seemed to drift away.

"Yeah, Michael," Gavin mumbled, his tone soft.

They barely pulled into the garage when Gavin suddenly sat up, stiffening like a board. He glanced at Geoff with wide eyes and said,

" _Bollocks._ "

Geoff just laughed and turned off the car's ignition.

"Kids," he snorted as he got out, shaking his head.

"Geoff, help! I can't - Michael!" Gavin whined, scrambling out after Geoff.

"Michael's not a verb, bud," Geoff quipped, snickering to himself.

"Worst joke ever. Of all time."

"Shut up, you little shit. Don't you have a date with Ray?" Geoff reminded him, giving him a shove as they walked through the garage.

"The universe wants me dead!" the Brit cried out, bounding inside and down the hall to his room.

He jumped into his office chair, nearly tipping it over, before he pulled himself up to his desk. After flipping open his laptop, he pressed the power button. As the computer booted up, Gavin hurriedly undressed. Tossing away shoe and shirt alike, he thought about the only thing he had thought about that entire week: Michael.

Goddamn twat. Goddamn _beautiful_ twat. Gavin was neck-deep in shit and he hadn't even realized it until now. He liked Michael a whole-fucking-lot, as in he wanted to be close to him and hold his stupid hand and count his bollocking freckles until he went cross-eyed.

He was _so_ screwed.

After he pulled on his pajamas, Gavin turned to his computer and opened up Skype. Immediately, ignoring his notifications, he called Ray. Moments later, the video chat pulled up and he was face to face with the yawning Puerto Rican.

"Dude, where the hell have you been?" Ray asked, doing his best to muster a glare at his webcam.

"Ray, you have to swear on our bloody friendship not to tell anyone anything, okay? I can only tell you this if you swear!" Gavin replied frantically.

"I swear, goddamn. What's going on? Did someone die?"

"Michael bloody Jones happened!"

"What?" Ray snorted.

"I like Michael," Gavin snapped impatiently, raking his fingers through his hair.

"Okay? Are you not allowed to be friends with him or what?"

"No, I _like_ Michael."

"Oh, _oh_ ," Ray said, his eyes widening.

"I know!"

"Dude, I don't even think he's gay."

Silence.

" _Wait_ \- he's gay?" Ray practically shouted, nearly knocking himself out of his chair.

"Yeah, now shut your bloody trap!" Gavin hissed.

"Sorry, holy shit, dude. Michael fucking 'Rage Quit' Jones is gay. That came out of left field; I think that melted some of my brain. I was all ready to chew you out for ditching me like a jackass, but I literally can't remember anything now."

"Imagine how I feel, Ray, he bloody screamed it at me!" Gavin replied, throwing his arms up in the air as if to emphasize the matter at hand.

“Like at school?” Ray asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, like - like at his house,” he muttered, raking his fingers through his hair.

“His house,” the Puerto Rican said skeptically.

“We’ve been hanging out -”

“ _That’s_ where you’ve been this entire week and you didn’t fucking tell me?” Ray exclaimed, a grin appearing on his lips. “I can’t believe this, I’ve been betrayed. My whole life is a lie. Look’s like Mogar’s got some competition; do you want me to be the one to tell him you got a boyfriend?”

“Shut up, you pisspot! This is serious!” Gavin whined, slumping back against his chair.

“Dude, I think you need to just chill out, you know? You’re overthinking it, maybe it’s not even a real crush. It could be a just friend crush, you know?”

“A friend crush?” Gavin snorted.

“Yeah, a friend crush,” Ray said, shrugging. “Soulmate homies? I don’t fucking know, you’re just so excited about being friends with him that you’re getting butterflies.”

Gavin just stared at the screen dubiously before he said,

“That was bloody gay.”

“Like you, asshole. Why do I even try? Fuck you, I’m done giving advice. Can we go raiding now? I’ve been waiting hours for your dumb British ass to get on,” Ray snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gavin grumbled as he minimized the Skype window, hovering his cursor over the Nydealle desktop shortcut before he clicked on it. “You know what? I’m more bloody confused than I was before. Cheers, Ray.”

“Anything for a friend,” Ray snickered.

Gavin nearly missed half of what Ray had said, considering the near-deafening sound of swords clashing as the game booted up. He winced dramatically, ripping off his headphones to spare his eardrums the pain. When he slipped them back on, all he could hear past the subtle ringing in his ears, was Ray’s laughter.

“You’re an idiot,” he snorted.

“Sod off,” Gavin snapped.

“Whatever, dude. I’ve been waiting all-fucking-day to tell you something. So, you know how I’m taking Computer Programming? We started our end-of-year project on Friday and I got paired up with the cutest girl in like… the history of the world, I’m not even kidding,” Ray said, grinning widely.

“I bet when she heard you were her partner, she was like ‘oh, bollocks, not this prick’,” Gavin replied, sniggering.

“Fuck you. One, Tina’s not some British asshole. Two, she likes me, we’re chill,” he retorted.

Gavin opened his mouth to reply as he pulled up the Nydealle map, but was stopped by a message alert from his private messages.

**[Mogar]:** _my boi! ive barely gotten to talk to you all fucking week, its like ive gotten so used to you being an idiot around me that im going through withdrawals_

**[CreeperKing]:** _bloody smegpot_

**[Mogar]:** _i still don’t know what that fucking means_

**[CreeperKing]:** _its obvious!_

**[Mogar]:** _no it fucking isnt!_

**[CreeperKing]:** _are you sure im the idiot?_

**[Mogar]:** _uh fuck yeah_

**[Mogar]:** _which reminds me, ray told me about that time you broke your toe trying to juggle_

**[CreeperKing]:** _THAT WAS ONE TIME_

**[CreeperKing]:** _THAT WAS YEARS AGO_

**[Mogar]:** _you fucking gave yourself a black eye too ahaha_

**[CreeperKing]:** _i hate you_

**[Mogar]:** _love you too boi_

“Gavin, what the fuck? Are you even listening?” Ray suddenly snapped.

“What? Oh, yeah,” Gavin replied, shrugging. “You were talking about that new girl, Tammy or something.”

“Are you fucking serious? _Tammy_?”

“Did I get it wrong?”

“Are you talking to Mogar again? Asshole. I swear to God, I can’t even talk about Tina without you getting distracted by one of your boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends?” Gavin choked out.

“Yeah, Gav, boyfriends. You know, ‘Rage Quit’ and your knight in shining armor.”

“Just shut up already!”

“Never knew you were such a player, Gavin.”

“You are the worst bloody friend, ever.”

Two hours later, after a stern warning from a half-asleep Geoff telling him to ‘go the fuck to bed, it’s late as dicks’, Gavin finally said good night to Ray and shut off the computer. Exhausted and confused as ever, he crawled into bed. Before he fell asleep, though, he checked his phone. He had one new message from the boy he hadn’t stopped thinking about the entire week.

**From: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **To: gav in da usa**  
 **March 15, 1:57 am**  
 _hey asshole, you wanna go see a movie next saturday?_

**From: gav in da usa**  
 **To: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **March 15, 3:29 am**  
 _of course my lovely lil michael, what movie?_

Gavin fell asleep a few minutes later as he waited for a text back, phone in hand. Even when his phone vibrated and the screen lit up, he barely twitched, his body and mind too tired to give a damn.

When Gavin woke up with sunshine streaming through his curtains, his legs bent at awkward angles and drool plastered across his right cheek, he immediately checked his phone. Or at least, he went to check his phone and then stared at his empty hand for a few moments.

“What?” he squawked as he kicked off his covers and subsequently, his phone. “Bollocks!”

He climbed off his bed, groaning. From where Gavin was standing, he still couldn’t see his phone. He lowered himself down onto his carpet, the fibers digging into his bare knees, and began his search. Thankfully, it only lasted a few moments.

Gavin had two new messages, both from Michael.

**From: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **To: gav in da usa**  
 **March 15, 2014, 3:31 am**  
 _you’re lucky im awake. but its kind of weird?? i dont know, i’ll tell you in the morning_

**From: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **To: gav in da usa**  
 **March 15, 2014, 11:15 am**  
 _its endless love. BEFORE you make fun of me, let me explain. my mom and her fucking friend we’re supposed to go okay? then my moms friend bailed and my mom had already bought the tickets. she gave them to me last night and was like oh hey michael heres tickets to a movie that you already said you don’t want to fucking see, why don’t you take a friend? so yeah._

Gavin snorted a laugh, raking his fingers through his hair. Michael wanted to take him to a romance? Granted, the curly-haired boy didn’t really have a choice in the matter, considering the tickets had already purchased. He shrugged and pressed ‘reply’. It’s not like it’d be that bad; hell, they’d probably just take the piss out of the movie the entire time.

**From: gav in da usa**  
 **To: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **March 15, 2014, 11:56 am**  
 _pfft alright. a bloody romance movie though?_

**From: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **To: gav in da usa**  
 **March 15, 2014, 12:01 pm**  
 _fuck off, its not my fault we’re seeing a chick flick_

**From: gav in da usa**  
 **To: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **March 15, 2014, 12:02 pm**  
 _riiiight_

**From: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **To: gav in da usa**  
 **March 15, 2014, 12:03 pm**  
 _suck a ween, gavin dicksmack free_

**From: gav in da usa**  
 **To: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **March 15, 2014, 12:05 pm**  
 _what?? bollocking hell, its DAVID._

**From: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **To: gav in da usa**  
 **March 15, 2014, 12:08 pm**  
 _whatever, dickie bitch. and before you ask, i can’t hang out before that. gotta make sure the teams not getting suspicious you know? can’t have you coming home with me all the time, they’d freak out if they saw us_

**From: gav in da usa**  
 **To: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **March 15, 2014, 12:09 pm**  
 _Right._

**From: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **To: gav in da usa**  
 **March 15, 2014, 12:11 pm**  
 _oh come on gav, you can’t be mad at me_

**From: gav in da usa**  
 **To: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **March 15, 2014, 12:13 pm**  
 _Bye, Michael._

**From: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **To: gav in da usa**  
 **March 15, 2014, 12:15 pm**  
 _gav, please? come on, i’ll make it up to you. i’ll buy you an icee and some snacks at the movie_

Gavin didn’t even bother replying, a pit of anger and hurt swirling around in his stomach. How could Michael be ashamed of him like that? They were friends, dammit, not secret lovers. He pushed himself up onto his feet and trudged out of the room, arms folded tightly as he forced himself not to run back to check his phone.

Christ, to think Michael thought he could be bought with snacks, icee be damned.

“Good afternoon, sleeping beauty,” Geoff quipped as he came into the living room. “You look like someone pissed in your Cheerios.”

“Bloody hell, Michael’s just being a prick,” Gavin grumbled, plopping down onto the sofa next to him.  
“What’d he do?” Geoff asked, glancing away from his early-afternoon Peggle session to give Gavin a concerned look.

“He’s one of those jock blokes, said it’d be weird if his friends saw us together,” the Brit replied, sighing. “He’s just so damn confusing. Off and on, off and on. We’re supposed to be going to a movie Saturday, not even sure I want to go at this point.”

“Oh, so he’s that kind of kid,” Geoff said, rolling his eyes. “Listen, he fucks with your heart, baby boy, I won’t hesitate to give him a stern talking-to. No one treats my kid like that.”

“Jesus, Geoff, calm down. It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

Gavin opened his mouth to reply but nothing came to mind, Geoff’s bluntness temporarily shocking his systems. He nodded, muttered an ineligible excuse, and left to go get himself a bowl of cereal (or really, do anything to distract himself). Eventually, he settled on the rest of the Fruity Pebbles before retreating back to his room to get on Nydealle.

The rest of his weekend was spent primarily in his office chair as he grinded mobs, burned through quests, and did his best to ignore his phone in favor of listening to Ray gush about his own crush, Tina, in order to keep his mind off of a certain boy with freckles like constellations.

But when Monday came around and he was thrown back into the hell that was high school, he couldn't keep his mind off of him.

In Pre-Calc, as Ray took his daily nap, Gavin daydreamed about Michael, imagining him as if he were made out of stars. On the way out of class, Ray teased Gavin the moment he saw the blush on his cheeks.

In American History, he imagined what Michael's hand would feel like in his.

Hell, when it came time for Study Hall, he was pretty sure the image of Michael was burned into the back of his eyelids. He had never once had a boy clog up his brain so much, but then again, it had been awhile since there had even been a boy worth that much thought.

It came as a surprise, though, when Michael, in the flesh, walked up to him at his locker as he was packing up to go home. His eyes were darting around nervously, his mouth set into a grimace. He had his curls tucked into a beanie and his letterman was no where to be found. Gavin could guess where it had gone, based on the bulge in Michael's backpack.

"Gav," Michael said softly, his voice unwavering but Gavin could clearly see his fingers trembling.

"Yeah?" he replied lamely.

"You wanna hang out? We never finished Orange is the New Black," Michael asked, an uneasy grin on his face.

Gavin just stared at him for a moment. If there was one thing for certain, it was that the curly-haired boy was all over the place, but he tried his damned hardest. Honestly, Gavin was surprised Michael hadn't upped and forgotten about him already.

"You are the strangest boy I've ever bloody met, Michael Jones," Gavin answered, looking somewhat dumbfounded despite the feeling of elation blooming in his chest.

"Is that a no?" Michael said, his face falling.

"It's a yes, you dope!" Gavin snorted, his lips curling into a wide smile. 

Michael’s face brightened up immediately, a grin to match Gavin’s forming on his face.

The Brit barely got enough time to zip up his backpack before Michael grabbed his wrist and suddenly, they were taking off down the hall. Laughing breathlessly, they sprinted, feet slapping against the ground noisily. A few lingering students glared at them and a passing administrator yelled at them to slow down.

They didn't, not for the life of them.

When they got to Mrs. Jones' blindingly blue car, Michael jumped into the back with Gavin. She didn't even bother asking if he'd gotten permission from Geoff to go home with them again as she watched Gavin squawk and pull out his phone in her rear-view mirror.

A moment later, he said with a grin,

"We're all tippity toppers."

The boys collapsed on each other, giggling. Mrs. Jones couldn’t help but chuckle, too. She’d never seen a pair of boys more starry-eyed towards each other.

Ten minutes later, they pulled into the Jones’ driveway. Michael and Gavin were off again, fumbling with the car door before they jumped out of the van. After stumbling over each other several times, they finally made it up to Michael’s room. The Xbox was powered on and the duo buckled down, shoulder-to-shoulder as they laid underneath Michael’s blanket to continue their marathon.

The hours flew by and before either of them knew it, Gavin had to go home. After getting a text from Geoff at nine, saying he would be there in ten minutes, their moods deflated. They spent a few moments just groaning and complaining, cursing Geoff for picking a reasonable time to pick Gavin up.

Gavin might’ve continued to throw a minor tantrum had Michael not stopped him with a gentle smile and a soft touch to his wrist.

“Hey,” he breathed.

“Hi,” Gavin replied, matching his smile as a blush bloomed on his cheeks.

“Don’t be mad at me anymore, okay?” Michael said, his voice just a whisper.

“Okay.”

“I’m still gonna buy you that icee.”

“Okay,” Gavin laughed quietly.

“We can go to arcade afterwards. Do you wanna get some pizza before? There’s a new pizzeria across the street. I mean, it’s a sit-down place but I heard they’ve got some really good pie.”

“Sounds bloody expensive,” Gavin commented, doing his best to ignore how much it sounded like a date. He wouldn’t mind if it was, hell, he wanted it to be a date. Even if it wasn’t, Gavin was just happy to spent time with Michael.

“Don’t worry, Gav, I got you covered. Just don’t order any fucking shrimp on your pizza,” Michael replied with a grin.

There was a knock of Michael’s bedroom door, and the two reluctantly climbed out from under the blanket and onto their feet.

“Boys? Geoff’s here,” Mrs. Jones said, knuckles poised to knock again.

A moment later, the door swung open and the two boys walked out, Michael trailing after Gavin like what Mrs. Jones could only describe as a puppy.

“He’s waiting in the driveway!” she called to them, watching them descend down the stairs.

“Gav?” Michael said, stopping him just as he reached for the door knob.

“Yeah?” he asked, glancing back at him.

“I’ll see you on Saturday,” he said, grinning widely.

“I’ll see you then, my lovely little Michael,” Gavin cooed, grinning back.

Then, the Brit was out the door, excitement bubbling up in his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aren't you excited for their date-not-date? ;)


	5. The Sun and the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Table for two," Michael said confidently, wrapping his arm around Gavin’s shoulders to calm him down. That, however, didn’t help much, and Gavin became more flustered than he had been to begin with. When a nervous giggle slipped out of his mouth, Michael squeezed his shoulder and grinned at him.

Waiting for Saturday slowly became a living hell for Gavin. Even when he had Mogar, Ray, and Nydealle as distractions, he couldn't help but get stuck on his not-date with Michael.

It didn't help that the curly-haired boy would sneak glances at him during homeroom just to catch his eye and smile like they shared a secret no one else knew about. Of course, that wasn't exactly a lie.

Lunches were the hardest part. Gavin could see Michael parading around with his friends, with his chest puffed out and his lips curled into a smug smirk. He looked handsome and Ray caught him staring at Michael several times, calling the dreamy smile on his face 'a dead fucking giveaway'.

But, when he saw the cruelty that came with the pride and the fancy letterman, it made him sick to his stomach. It almost made him second-guess himself. Hell, if all it took for Michael to transform into the almighty 'Rage Quit' was a few of his teammates, what did that say about the boy?

Gavin pushed away the negative thoughts just as quickly as they came. Michael wasn't who he pretended to be, he knew that. There was so much more to Michael than a bloody jacket and a sneer, for Christ's sake! There had to be.

He'd witnessed it himself. He'd seen the boy with soft smiles and softer touches, running with him like he never wanted to stop. Even when he was shouting and cursing, there was something different, something less malicious than his namesake.

"Gav? Hey, dude, come on. Snap out of it," Ray said, nudging his shoulder persistently.

"What? What did I miss?" Gavin asked, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the frayed edges of his thoughts.

"Tina, me, date. I know you can barely keep your mind off your boyfriend over there, but you gotta open up your ears! I'm taking her out to dinner tonight and then we're going mini-golfing. Dude, it's going to be awesome, I'm so excited," Ray rambled on, a grin on his face.

"That’s top, didn't know you had the guts to ask her out," Gavin replied, elbowing him on the ribs.

"Fuck you, man. I mean, I almost threw up my breakfast but it was fucking glorious. Which reminds me, what's going on with you? You've been staring at Jones since Monday," Ray snorted.

"It's Michael, not Jones," Gavin muttered, folding his arms like a petulant child.

"Forgive me, _Michael_ ," Ray said teasingly, sounding star struck. "Seriously, what's up?"

"Just... it's nothing, really, just hanging out on Saturday."

"Dude, that's tomorrow. You only got one more day to go. Besides, I thought you guys were attached at the hip after school,” Ray snorted, poking at a slab of white paste on his lunch tray that was supposedly mashed potatoes.

“It’s _different_ this time,” Gavin muttered, pushing away his own tray in favor of putting his elbows up.

“How?”

“Well, first of all, we’re not attached at the hip, pisspot. Two, it’s just… different, feels like a bloody date.”

“A _date_?” Ray asked, gawking. “Michael asked you on a date?”

“No! Keep your goddamn voice down, you idiot! I said it feels like a date, not that it was a date,” Gavin snapped, glaring at his best friend.

“Fuck you, you’re confusing,” Ray said, rolling his eyes. “Why does it feel like a date?”

“We’re going to a movie.”

“Dude, we go and see movies all the time.”

“We’re seeing Endless Love, Ray, Endless _bollocking_ Love,” Gavin replied, exasperated. “We’re going to the pizzeria across the street and to the arcade after the movie. He’s paying for bloody _everything_! For Christ’s sake, he even said he’d buy me an icee. I didn’t even ask for one!”

“Dude, chill, you look like you’re about to explode,” Ray, ever the mediator, said as he gave a gentle jab to Gavin’s ribs.

“I just - It feels like a bloody date,” he muttered, his shoulders slumped. “I’m getting all those damn butterflies, makes me feel like I’m gonna vom all over the place.”

Ray just gave him a smile and a playful punch to the shoulder.

“You’ll live,” he laughed.

To be quite honest, Gavin wasn’t sure if that was true, especially when he woke up Saturday morning to his phone vibrating on his nightstand. He squawked noisily and flailed as he grabbed it.

**From: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **To: gav in da usa**  
 **March 22, 2014, 11:27 am**  
 _you hyped for endless fucking love yet gavvy??_

**From: gav in da usa**  
 **To: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **March 22, 2014, 11:30 am**  
 _you woke me up you bloody asshole_

**From: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **To: gav in da usa**  
 **March 22, 2014, 11:32 am**  
 _waaaaahhhh im gavin and im a baby_

**From: gav in da usa**  
 **To: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **March 22, 2014, 11:33 am**  
 _tosser_

**From: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **To: gav in da usa**  
 **March 22, 2014, 11:35 am**  
 _wow rude. im gonna ignore the fact that i dont know what the fuck that means, but you know what, since im such a nice person, im still gonna get you that icee_

Gavin giggled sleepily, snorting. He tossed away his phone and crawled out of bed, rubbing his eyes before he stretched.

He had never been more excited for a Saturday before, except maybe his first double experience night on Nydealle which had happened upon the weekend. Gavin could remember it like it was yesterday. Ray had come over, bringing with him a hoard of junk food and his laptop.

However, he felt like this ranked on a whole different list, because Ray had never made Gavin feel like he was going to throw up everything contained in his ribcage.

What made Michael different? Hell, Gavin hadn’t even liked Michael in the beginning, no matter how cute the boy was. He’d been obnoxious, rude, downright cruel, but now? Michael was a whole new person. It was like he was made from stars and bits of planets, and Gavin had always loved the universe.

A rush of butterflies plunged into his stomach. It was like Michael’s eyes were the edges of black holes and his freckles were the Milky Way smattered across his skin.

_Christ_ , he was going to be sick.

Gavin stood and hurried out of his bedroom, nearly running into Griffon on his way out. She was dressed in a tanktop and overalls, clearly ready for a day of hard work. From the shouts of profanity and a singular burp he heard from the living room, he could tell that Geoff wasn’t.

“Looks who’s awake,” she teased, ruffling his hair. “Ready for your big day?”

“Sod off, Griffon, just hanging out with a friend,” he grumbled, not even bothering to shy away from her touch.

“Sure, _friend_. I gotcha, Gav,” Griffon said, grinning.

She gave him one last pat on the shoulder before she was off again, her pace set to a near jog as she hurried out to the backyard. Gavin huffed, less out of irritation and more out of frustration; he felt nervous for what should be nothing.

For Christ’s sake, it was just Michael and him going into town to faff around for a few hours.

He trudged into the living room and plopped down onto the couch next to Geoff; he was still in his pajamas too, with a bowl of already-soggy cereal balanced precariously on his thigh as he clutched a controller in his hands.

“Morning, buddy,” Geoff loudly greeted him, and he was nearly interrupted by his own yelling as his character died.

“Bloody hell, Geoff, I’m surprised you’re not the one who woke me up,” Gavin snorted, glancing over at him.

“What? Did Michael wake you up first with a good morning text?” Geoff asked, smirking as the teen began to sputter.

“Shut up!”

“Oh, Gavvy, good morning! You’re so beautiful, I wish I could be with you all the time,” he crooned, letting go of one of the controller to clutch at his chest. Unsurprisingly, he died, again, for what seemed like the umpteenth time to Geoff.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Right back at you, bud. Go eat some breakfast, but don’t touch my goddamn breakfast burrito!”

“Geoff, you have a bowl of bloody cereal _in your lap_ ,” Gavin snorted as he dragged himself off of the couch.

“Point taken, bastard, go ahead and eat the goddamn fridge while you’re at it.”

One breakfast burrito later, Gavin finally decided to go back and check on his phone. There was another text from Michael.

**From: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **To: gav in da usa**  
 **March 22, 2014, 12:05 pm**  
 _the movie’s at 6:15 so ill come get you at 5, k? then we can eat and fuck around until it starts. see you then asshole, you better be ready when i get there_

**From: gav in da usa**  
 **To: the coolest person ever michael <333**  
 **March 22, 2014, 12:06 pm**  
 _tippity toppers, my lovely little michael_

Waiting for five hours was easier said than done, especially when he was constantly checking the time on his phone. Each minute damn near turned into centuries.

Gavin did everything he could to distract himself.

He dorked around on Nydealle with Ray, listening to him ramble on and on about Tina and their date, waxing poetic about her beauty in the only way a teenage boy could. Gavin could swear he heard the word ‘hot’ at least a hundred times in one hour.

When mob-grinding became exhausting, he said goodbye to Ray and moved onto Halo.

And then, Grand Theft Auto V.

And then, Bioshock.

Within the next hour, Gavin went through each of his games, never finding one that could hold his interest for more than five minutes. He gave up after Trials, nearly cracking his controller in half out of anger after he failed an Extreme course a sixth time.

He got up and then proceeded to spend a good twenty minutes storming around the house, stomping like a petulant child as he searched for something interesting to do. Geoff, who was still in the living room, managed to stop him by tackling him to the ground before sending him off to go clean his room.

Surprisingly enough, Gavin complied immediately, desperate for anything to do.

Except, his room hadn’t been that dirty to begin with, and half an hour later, everything was put in its rightful place. Dirty clothes were put in the hamper, and dirty dishes were put into the dishwasher.

At 2:20 pm, he just gave up. Gavin flopped onto his bed, closed his eyes, and just laid there, limbs splayed out in all directions. Within five minutes, he was out like a light.

When Gavin had laid down for a nap, it had seemed like a good idea. He could sleep off his frustration, skip forward an hour, and ultimately, have a pleasant kip.

However, when Gavin woke up from his nap, it only took him a few moments to regret it.

He groaned loudly, rubbing his eyes. As he sat up, he struggled to ward away the fogginess that had settled in his brain. Damn kips, he always felt like someone had shot him with a tranquilizer dart after he had one.

Gavin’s hands searched lazily for his phone. After a few moments, he finally found it, tangled within the confinements of his sheets. The moment he unlocked it, however, he wished he hadn’t even thought about it begin with.

It was 4:30 pm.

He squawked, throwing his phone aside. He hadn’t even gotten ready yet; for Christ’s sake, he was still in his pajamas. Gavin scrambled out of bed and down the hallway, nearly slamming into the bathroom door in his panic before stumbling inside.

He had slept for two _bloody_ hours, like an idiot!

In what were probably the most stressful five minutes of Gavin’s entire life, he managed to take a decent shower, and by decent, he meant half-assed and equally as stressful. Each one of his shower gel bottles had been empty and the only one that hadn’t been, was a small bottle of Herbal Essence’s Happy Go Lather that Geoff had bought for him as a joke.

It smelled like bloody heaven, not that he would ever admit it out loud, but there was no way Michael would give up the chance to tease him about the fact that he smelled like a rose garden. Damn roses, Geoff should’ve given the shower gel to Ray, instead.

He did, however, dry off in record time, barely managing not to crack his head on the sink as he hopped around, scrubbing his towel over his body. He tossed the towel into a soggy heap in the corner, pulled on his boxers, and ran out into the hall.

Darting into his room, Gavin made a beeline for his closet.

What the hell was he going to wear? They were going to sit-down pizzeria that served shrimp on their bloody pizzas!

He made wild grabs for articles of clothing that looked like they could pass off as almost fancy. Over his shoulder, went dark skinny jeans, a few button-ups, and a couple of his higher quality t-shirts (patterned pocket and all).

When Gavin turned back, he just stared down at the pile of clothes.

“ _Bollocks_.”

He grabbed a pair of skinny jeans and held them up, peering at them. Dammit, the stitching was red. He tossed them away and snatched up a second pair.

“Bollocks!”

Red stitching, again.

Gavin threw the other pair to the side, knelt down, and looked at the last pair of jeans.

“Please, _please_ , do not have red stitching,” he murmured, clapping his hands together.

He grabbed them and raised them slowly, the corners of his lips curling up. Ha, no red stitching. Now, the challenge was getting them on.

He was fine up until his thighs. Truly, his thighs weren’t extraordinary. They weren’t thin, muscular, or fat, they were just thighs. But skinny jeans didn’t apply reality and all thighs were subject to their bollocking judgement.

Halfway through yanking them up, mid-jump, he could hear the doorbell ring.

Gavin stiffened like a board. _Michael_. After what seems like ages of hopping around his room, desperately tugging on the belt loops of his skinny jeans, he managed to pull them up past his thighs and onto his waist.

Goddammit, Michael was _early_ and he didn’t even have a bloody shirt on yet!

Suddenly, his door swung open, Michael striding in a moment later with his chest puffed out and a grin on his face. Gavin shrieked, nearly jumping a foot off of the floor, before he turned to face the curly-haired boy. Like deer caught in car headlights, they stared at each other. Gavin noticed the bright, rosy blush on Michael’s cheeks, before he remembered that currently, he was lacking a shirt.

“Gavin, why aren’t you ready?” Michael shouted, nearly in hysterics as he slapped his hands over his eyes.

“Why didn’t you knock?” Gavin retorted, his voice high-pitched and squeaky.

“Where’s your shirt?”

“Why are you early?”

Michael, deciding he had had enough, abruptly turned on his heel and hurried out, eyes squeezed shut. His forehead missed the doorframe by near inches, but he still managed to trip over his own two feet, barely managing to catch himself as he hit the carpet with a dull thud.

If Gavin hadn’t been in a rush to pull his shirt on (he had picked a dark grey t-shirt with a pocket that was the color of a flamingo), too frazzled to deal with buttons and what not, he would’ve burst out into laughter.

Thankfully, Geoff, who had gone to stand outside of Gavin’s room the moment he heard screaming, was there to witness the accident. Raucous laughter filled the hallway, and Michael’s blush worsened immensely as he scrambled up onto his feet.

“You two are a match made in heaven,” Geoff wheezed, clutching his stomach with both hands as he laughed.

A few moments later, Gavin stepped out of his room, flustered but fully-clothed. Geoff had ran off, giggling maniacally as he went to go find Griffon.

The two boys faced each other, breath baited. As Gavin waited for Michael to make fun of him for being scrawny or pale, not that Michael had room to talk, Michael waited for Gavin to yell at him for intruding.

“We should get going,” the curly-haired boy blurted out, wringing his hands.

Gavin remained silent as he stared at him, cheeks still flushed in embarrassment, no doubt from Michael’s idiocy. He gave a slow nod before he turned and retreated back into his room.

The moment he closed his door behind him, Gavin almost screamed, letting out a harsh breath instead. As he searched for clean socks, he contemplated on the fact that Michael had the ability to look effortlessly beautiful. Hell, he looked better each time Gavin saw him!

The boy’s blushing had flushed out his freckles, but he had looked like the project of a million starry explosions anyways. In retrospect, Gavin had never seen anybody prettier than the Milky Way, up until he met Michael, with dark brown eyes like the edges of the Universe and curls the color of a red giant (in just the right light, at least).

Gavin shivered, and scrubbed his hands over his face. This not-date was going to kill him.

A few moments later, he was pulling on his Converse and heading out the door with Michael, but not before he said goodbye to Geoff and Griffon.

“Have fun!” Griffon called to them from the front doorway.

“Don’t forget to use a condom!” Geoff shouted, grunting a moment later when Griffon elbowed him in the ribs.

Once again, the two boys sported rosy cheeks as they walked alongside each other and down to Michael’s car. Or at least, Michael’s mom’s car. Michael even opened his door for him before jogging around to the other side.

“ _Whoa_ , it’s like a whole new experience up here!” Gavin commented with a grin, filled with sudden determination to diffuse the awkward tension between them.

Thankfully, it seemed to work immediately. It seemed as if Michael had wanted to do the same thing too, but Gavin had beat him to it.

“Dude, what are you even talking about? You ride in this van all the time,” Michael laughed as he started up the car. The engine whined loudly, as if protesting, before rumbling as it came to life.

“I always sit in the back, you mong,” Gavin replied, making a point to gesture to the back seat. “It’s like a different world back there.”

“You’re an idiot,” Michael snickered.

They bantered back and forth for the entirety of the car ride, not even bothering to turn on the car radio as they insulted and joked with one another. By the time Michael pulled up to the pizzeria, Gavin had a grin on his face that stretched from ear to ear.

“You okay there, dude?” Michael teased as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “You look kind of high, not gonna lie.”

“I’m high on life, love!” Gavin laughed, throwing his arms upwards only to smack the back of his hands against the car’s ceiling.

“Stupid,” Michael said, grinning.

When the curly-haired boy climbed out of the car, Gavin followed to do the same. However, it seemed like Michael had other plans as he ran around the front of the car, nearly tripping over his own two feet again, just to get to Gavin’s door.

He grabbed the handle and swung it open with a flourish, bowing towards Gavin as he got out.

“What are you _doing_?” he squawked, giving Michael’s shoulder a shove.

“This way, Mr. Free, your table awaits,” Michael replied with what sounded like a very poor French accent, barely managing to keep a straight face as he gestured towards the pizzeria.

“You’re bloody mad, Michael Jones,” Gavin giggled as he walked past him, glancing back when the other boy caught up to him, but not before he closed the passenger side door and locked the van.

“Asshole! You almost left me behind,” Michael said, playfully jabbing him in the side.

“Don’t be such a baby,” Gavin laughed, jerking away from Michael’s touch. His sides were particularly sensitive and he was about to let Michael find that out.

But when Gavin saw the understanding dawn in Michael’s eyes, he knew it was too late.

He was already bounding towards the entrance before Michael could even make his first move.

“Get back here, you bitch!” Michael shouted, chasing after him. “You never told me you were fucking ticklish!”

Gavin didn’t even bother with a reply, instead he just rolled his eyes and burst through the doors into the pizzeria.

See, what he had expected was a little area with benches, separated from the rest of the restaurant by another set of doors. What Gavin was faced with, though, was a front desk, a bench, and a small hall leading down to the tables. The hostess behind the desk and the old couple sitting on the bench stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Sir?” the hostess asked. “Are you lost?”

“Well, I - I’m, no, I just,” Gavin stammered out.

Before he could embarrass himself further or say something incredibly stupid, Michael walked in and planted himself besides Gavin, his chest puffed out.

“Table for two,” Michael said confidently, wrapping his arm around Gavin’s shoulders to calm him down. That, however, didn’t help much, and Gavin became more flustered than he had been to begin with. When a nervous giggle slipped out of his mouth, Michael squeezed his shoulder and grinned at him.

The hostess smiled and nodded, blonde curls bouncing around her cheeks, before grabbing two menus and gesturing for them to follow her.

After being led down the hall and down to their table, a booth in the back, Michael finally pulled his arm away and took a seat. Gavin sat down on the seat opposite of him, biting his lip.

“Someone will be here to serve you in just a minute,” the waitress chirped as she set down their menus, giving them one last smile before she turned and walked back to attend her duties.

Gavin hid his own giddy smile behind his menu, his cheek still warm and pink.

The waitress, a young girl with hair the color of bubblegum, came and took their drink order. When Gavin had opened his mouth to order a water, Michael nudged his shin with his foot and ordered Italian soda for the both of them before he could even get a word out. Gavin tried to protest, but Michael just laughed and rolled his eyes, telling him to just ‘fucking decide on some pizza toppings, numbnuts’.

After a few minutes of deciding on which pizza to order, they settled on half mushroom and half pepperoni.

The waitress came back a few moments after their decision, two chilled glasses alongside a couple cans of blood orange soda balanced carefully on her plastic serving tray.

“I don’t mean to intrude or anything,” she said as she began setting down their drinks, starting with the sodas first. “But, you two are just the cutest couple, ever.”

Gavin blanched, staring up at her with wide eyes. Michael remained silent, his curls falling into his eyes as he tipped his head downwards.

“It’s really hard to come out these days, and here you are, on a Friday night date. Makes me want to take my girl out,” the waitress mused, grinning. “Anyways, totally forgot to introduce myself. I’m Meg, and I’ll be your server for the night. Have you decided on what to eat yet, or do you need a few moments?”

The Brit glanced at Michael nervously, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

How would he react?

Would he leave?

Suddenly, Michael looked up with a smile so dazzling that Gavin’s stomach nearly imploded, a rush of butterflies taking up residence just below his ribs. The waitress’s words drifted out of his mind, considering he was too distracted to hold onto anything else other than the image of Michael’s smile.

“Small pie, half pepperoni and half mushroom,” Michael answered. “And, well, why not? A slice of cheesecake for the mute over there.” He motioned to Gavin with a smile, who was gaping at him.

Meg laughed, nodding as she scribbled down the order on her pad of paper.

“I’ll be back soon with your food,” she said, turning on her heel before hurrying off.

“Michael!” Gavin nearly shouted, gripping the edge of the table.

“Gavin!” Michael replied, matching his volume with a laugh.

“You didn’t have to buy me cheesecake,” he muttered, slumping back against his seat.

“Christ, don’t complain about it,” Michael snorted. “I’ll buy you whatever I want, you can’t stop me.”

Gavin rolled his eyes, a wide grin appearing on his lips.

“Do you think you could ask her to put strawberry sauce on it?”

“That’s the spirit!”

Forty minutes and an entire pizza later, Gavin was faced with said slice of strawberry- covered cheesecake. Of course, Michael (who had already paid for the bill) had a fork, too, poised for attack on the rich sweet.

“Hey, Michael?” Gavin murmured, glancing up at him.

“Yeah, Gav?”

“Thanks.”

Michael just grinned, nudging his foot with his own.

“Anytime.”

As they ate the cheesecake, one of them would look at the other while they were distracted with taking a bite, starry-eyed, before the other would look back up.

Meg, who had taken from watching from afar considering the pizzeria was nearly empty, watched with baited breath.

“Don’t you have better things to do than stare at them, like, I don’t know, your work?” the blonde hostess teased as she came up behind her.

“Shut up,” she chuckled in embarrassment, rolling her eyes as a blush bloomed on her cheeks.

“They’re cute, but not like gut-wrenchingly adorable.”

“You’re cute.”

“I know,” the hostess said, grinning.

“Barbara?”

“That’s the name, don’t wear it out.”

“Let’s go on a date tomorrow,” Meg murmured.

“You covering the tab like Curly over there?” Barbara asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.

“I mean, as long as you’re okay with McDonald’s, then yeah,” Meg laughed.

“Okay, McDonald’s date it is.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

After a moment of silence, Barbara spoke, again.

“Can we go to one with one those playgrounds?”

Meg just laughed before wandering off to find a customer who was in need of her service.

After finishing off the cheesecake, Michael going so far as to lick the last of the syrup off of the plate just to make Gavin giggle, they left. They had made sure to find Meg before they left, though, just to say good night.

“The movie’s in like one minute,” Gavin commented after checking his phone.

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” Michael replied, stretching his arm up over his head, palms facing towards the sky.

“Hasn’t this movie been out for, like, a month? Why didn’t your mom go see it earlier?” Gavin said, glancing over at him.

Michael bit his lip, worrying it gently. Gavin could’ve sworn he saw a blush creep over the apples of his cheeks.

“Hey, what kind of icee do you want?” Michael asked.

“Michael -”

“Race you!”

Michael took off with Gavin practically on his heels. The Brit hadn’t forgotten about the question, not yet at least, but he had never been one to give up on a challenge.

They laughed, howling like wild beasts, as they sprinted. Michael busted through the doors to the cinema in no time flat, Gavin bowling into him as he stopped. They both stumbled forward, Michael’s hand catching Gavin’s wrist to pull him down as they fell.

Gavin landed on Michael, who gave a harsh grunt.

“Thanks, asshole,” he snorted, pushing the Brit off of him.

“What? You’re the one who stopped like a bloody idiot!” Gavin protested, climbing up onto his feet before holding his hand out to help Michael up.

Michael grabbed his wrist instead and, with Gavin’s help, heaved himself up off of the worn-down carpet.

They stopped for a second, staring at each other, before they started laughing again.

“Okay, leave already, go pick our seats,” Michael said, barely managing to speak through fits of giggles.

Gavin didn’t need to be told twice. He jogged away, only glancing back to jokingly blow Michael a kiss, who immediately flipped him off.

Finding a couple of available seats wasn’t extremely difficult, considering the theater was completely empty. Absolutely bloody barren. He stared at the unoccupied seats in awe; he had never really seen a theater that had been devoid of any and all people.

Naturally, Gavin decided to do the one thing he couldn’t normally do; climb the seats.

He made it up four rows, only stopping when the tip of his Converse caught on the top of a seat and he landed half on the fifth row and half on the concrete supporting it. He thanked God that all of the armrests had been put up, though, otherwise he would’ve smashed his nose on the plastic instead of the cushion.

When he finally stood up, the sound of clapping suddenly filled his ears. Gavin spun around, eyes wide and face burning in embarrassment, only to see Michael struggling to hold back a guffaw, a large icee resting in the crook of his elbow.

“Gavin Free, everybody!” he teased as he jogged up the steps to meet Gavin, his face split into a wide grin.

“You’re a twat,” Gavin muttered, folding his arms.

“Oh, come on, it was fuckin’ funny!” Michael snorted, nudging his foot with his sneaker.

The Brit just shook his head and took a seat.

“Hey,” Michael said, voice almost too soft to be heard over the previews as he sat down next to him.

“What?”

“Don’t be mad at me.”

“Why?” Gavin asked, a sarcastic tone in his voice.

“Because I don’t want you to be mad at me, do I have to have another reason?” Michael answered, frowning in frustration.

“No.”

“Are you mad at me?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Yes.”

Michael sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

Gavin held his breath as he waited for Michael to say something, anything really. He wasn’t mad; he wasn’t sure he could ever truly be mad at him, the same way he could never be angry with the stars.

He couldn’t touch the stars, nor could he touch Michael, the boy made from stars.

But, Michael could touch him. It was unfair, really, but Gavin never really was one to fight the laws of nature like a bumbling fool.

The curly-haired boy was silent. Instead of speaking, he flashed a small smile over at Gavin and handed him his icee.

It was cherry.

He passed it over and set it in the cupholder to his right, but not before taking a sip of the icee. It was cold and sweet, chilling his tongue before he swallowed.

When fingertips brushed against Gavin’s forearm, he nearly jumped out of his seat. It was like being caressed by the sun each time Michael touched him. Nothing lit his nerves up quite like he did. Gavin calmed down quickly, however, glancing over at Michael in bewilderment. The curly-haired boy wasn’t even looking at him.

Strong fingers wrapped around his wrist gently, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I’m not mad,” Gavin murmured after a few moments, the previews filling in the silence around them.

“I know.”

“You’re still a twat, though,” he laughed.

“And you’re still an asshole,” Michael replied, grinning.

The movie started a few moments later, and Michael let go of Gavin’s wrist, his fingers lingering as if he were reluctant to pull them away. It left tingling trails like wild fire over his skin.

Surprisingly enough, they were both (mostly) silent as the story played out.

Gavin was too consumed in his thoughts, trying to piece together the entire night in a way that made sense and didn’t leave him a blushing mess. He didn’t have much luck with either thing.

Michael was… well, Gavin wasn’t too sure. Of course, he’d mutter insults and jokes at particularly ridiculous parts, but for the most part, he was a lot more quiet than usual.

Gavin wouldn’t admit it, but he had spent most of the movie either thinking of Michael or looking at him. He had looked like he had been deep in thought the entire time, with his brow furrowed and his lips pursed slightly.

Hell, the curly-haired boy didn’t even speak directly to Gavin until after the movie had ended and they had begun their walk to the arcade.

“So, that movie was kind of shit,” he laughed, glancing over at the Brit.

“Honestly? I didn’t pay attention to half of the bollocking movie. It just feels like I’ve seen the same thing over and over again,” Gavin replied, relieved to have the silence broken.

“What? I paid for those tickets with my hard-earned cash, and you didn’t even watch it?” Michael snorted, a wide grin on his face as he reached over and elbowed Gavin in the ribs. “You’re such a fuckin’ shithead.”

Gavin laughed, shying away from the playful jab with an over exaggerated yelp.

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks.

“Wait,” he said, peering up at Michael, who had also stopped once he heard what he had said.

“What?” Michael asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

“ _You_ bought them? I thought you said your mum got ‘em, for her and her friend!” he blurted out as a wide, smug grin spread across his lips.

“Wait, no -”

“I can’t believe this!” Gavin giggled. “Michael Jones wanted to go to a bloody dramatic romance movie.”

“Oh my god, Gavin, shut the _fuck_ up!” Michael groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Oi, I’m Michael and I’m some big, tough bloke who plays American football, you wanna see Endless Love with me?” Gavin said, teasing him with a poor imitation of the boy.

“You are so fucking annoying,” he sighed, but he couldn’t help but smile as Gavin jumped around him, flexing his muscles.

Just as they came to the arcade, Michael grabbed Gavin’s wrist and pulled him inside. The Brit didn’t even bother with a complaint, just letting himself be tugged along. The arcade itself wasn’t all that occupied, with just two young kids hogging one of the hunting games and a few bored looking employees wandering about.

Despite how the sun had set outside, the lights inside the arcade were dim and multicolored. If anything, most of the light came from the bright screens of the machines.

Most of the machines themselves were set about in a seemingly-random pattern, apart from the racing games, which were all lined up against the edge of the walls. A lonely Dance Dance Revolution game sat in the corner, playing a fast-paced pop song.

There were other games, like first-person shooters with stocky, plastic guns and terrible arcade game adaptations of television shows, but Michael and Gavin zoned in on DDR like it was the only game in the entire arcade.

“I’m gonna fuck you up, dude,” Michael said with a mischievous grin.

“What? No way! You can’t match my moves, Michael, I’m like a bloody Dance Dance Revolution pro!” Gavin replied confidently.

“You just wait, once I get the tokens, I’m gonna crush you.”

Michael wasn’t lying, he absolutely mopped the floor with Gavin.

After throwing on another pop song and putting it on the hardest difficulty, they had begun the game, hands flailing about as they danced on their tip-toes. Neither of them utilized the balancing bar behind them.

Before long, both Gavin and Michael were red-faced and panting, but Gavin had long given up his hope of winning.

“Did you bloody practice?” he squawked, hopping about in a struggle to match the arrows.

“No, you just suck,” Michael snickered breathlessly.

“I’m need a kip, oh, Christ,” he wheezed, catching himself on the balance bar. “If I keel over, tell Ray he’s a pisspot.”

Michael was by his side in a second, concern buried in the furrow of his brow.

“You okay?” he asked, looking at his face as if he were searching for the answer there.

Gavin just stared at him incredulously.

“What?”

“What do you mean what?”

“What the hell are you doing?” Gavin snorted, that familiar stream of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.

“Just checking if you were alright,” Michael answered in exasperation. “Is that illegal?”

“Yeah, stop it,” he snapped, stepping away from the curly-haired boy before he noticed that the flush on his face wasn’t just from exertion.

What the hell was he thinking? This was still the same boy that had screamed at him for spilling his lunch on him, the same boy who had walked off with his friends, laughing as he left Gavin an anxious mess.

“What are you getting all pissed about?” he asked, folding his arms.

“Go away.”

“No.”

“What is your damn problem?” Gavin hissed, turning away from Michael.

Silence.

Had Michael left?

Panic burst in his stomach, hooking its claws into his throat. He spun around, eyes wide, his heart hammering in his chest.

When he saw Michael still standing there, head tipped downwards just until his curls fell into his eyes, his breath hitched in his throat. He stood there, his throat tight and his muscles tense, waiting for Michael to make a move.

He had expected him to leave, or even deck him in the face for being insufferable, but instead, soft fingers wrapped around his thin wrist. His nerves lit up, sending electric currents pulsing through his skin.

“You,” Michael muttered.

Gavin flinched as if he had been physically hurt.

“Wait, shit, that didn’t sound right. I don’t mean it in a bad way, I just… You have been a pain in my ass since I fucking dragged you into that bathroom. I swear to fucking God, I thought you were going to punch me and run,” he said, mustering up a weak laugh.

Gavin couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“I’m gonna admit something, okay? You can’t fucking laugh or make fun of me, don’t be a dick.”

“Okay.”

“I just - I’m, I… I took you on a date, this is a date,” he muttered, raking his fingers through his curls.

Gavin, for once in his life, was absolutely speechless.

“Wait, what?” he sputtered, shell-shocked.

“I took you on a date and didn’t tell you. I just… I got really fucking nervous. One day, I’m hanging out with my friends, being an asshole for shits and giggles, and you just come barreling into my life, sticking your nose into everything.”

“The first day we hung out? I never wanted you to leave. It just fucking blew me away. You come into my life and fuck everything up, and I’m not mad. I’m so fucking glad you exist, Gavin, and holy shit, I can’t believe you’re wasting your time on me.”

“Fuck, I make _you_ mad. I open my big mouth and suddenly, you’re fucking ten seconds away from storming off. I just gotta grab you and hold on for dear life, you know?”

“Because, fuck, Gavin, when I look at you, it’s like I’m looking at the sun,” Michael finished breathlessly, giving his wrist a firm squeeze. “Why do you think I’m always grabbing onto your wrist? It feels like you’ll disappear if I don’t.”

Gavin let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. His chest constricted, his heart pounding so hard he thought it’d burst.

Michael Jones, the boy made from stars, thought he was the fucking _Sun_.

“You are a complete pleb,” Gavin breathed, grabbing a handful of Michael’s shirt with his free hand. “I spent the entire week convincing myself that this wasn’t a bollocking date. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Michael remained silent, staring at him in awe.

It’s not like Gavin had expected an answer, anyways.

With shuddering breaths and trembling fingers, they slowly closed the gap between the two of them. Their foreheads met as Michael’s grip tightened on his wrist ever-so-slightly.

“You might just be everything I’ve ever wanted, Gavin,” Michael admitted, his voice almost too quiet to hear over the pumping music coming from the DDR game.

Their lips met tenderly.

Fire ignited beneath his tongue, shocks of electric pleasure bursting in his chest.

Michael tasted like his long-gone cherry icee, and the way his lips moved and pressed against Gavin’s own made him feel like he was teetering on the edge of a coma.

A pang in his chest reminded him to breathe, and they broke away, panting.

“Michael?” he murmured, pressing their foreheads together.

“Yeah, Gav?” Michael whispered, his lips nearly brushing against Gavin’s.

“I don’t think I’ve liked anybody as much as I like you. You drive me bloody crazy.”

“Ditto.”

Drowning in the technicolor light coming from the DDR machine, with his lips pressed to Michael’s, he knew there was no place he would rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> space cuties uwu
> 
> i hope you guys liked this chapter as much as i liked writing it! comments are always appreciated :)


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